I look my cat in the eyes.
She looks back into mine.
It’s a mutual admiration.
I look at her feet, all four, individually.
I’ve read that cats would never let you
touch their pads and in between, tactile
and cushiony. Nice to prove the experts
wrong. I believed Adolf Huxley when he said,
“If you want to write keeps cats.” I think on
some counts he got that wrong; (more on
One cat will do for me. One whose feet
fascinate me, the long hours she spends
on my knee. I caress each pad. She spreads
each claw, and as she feigns sleep I see in her,
delight. If her claws communicate sharp,
and grip in any way, it’s only to make clear
If I’m taking more notice of my writing desk
than her; (like now): she’ll let me know that too.
I look on her as she carefully, gradually scatters
my papers. And then she’ll walk across
the keyboard, nudge away the books
I’m piling on the printer.
Oh, yes, she looks me in the eye and smiles.
Smug, smug cat; perhaps she saw what I was
reading. Cat quotes, this one by Eckhart Tolle.
‘I have lived with several Zen Masters, all
of them cats.’
Benita H. Kape © 6.4.2017
Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that looks at the same thing from various points of view. The most famous poem of this type is probably Wallace Stevens’ “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird”. You don’t need to have thirteen ways of looking at something – just a few will do!