Some years back, when I first met my husband, John O., he had a cat.He had named her Sally Rose, after the great Emmylou Harris, and her song, “The Ballad of Sally Rose.” She was a beautiful and clever Tabby cat. She could fetch a ball as well as any dog we’ve ever known! From that time living in an apartment in Osborne Village in Winnipeg, came the inspiraton for this poem.
My cat, a poet, sits at the window eyes glinting, tail switching, watching the moving creatures below She turns and sees her yellow ball resting on the floor Leaping I see her transformed into a hunter She slaps it with a paw and it rolls toward my feet The cat approaches me with wild meows and gleaming eyes, she is eager for the chase I toss the ball and for a moment she watches, poised, as it soars through the air on invisible wings then leaps into action springing towards the kill. Irene Shaw (Copyright, Irene Shaw, 2021)*a symbol of death
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