A Cat’s Last Summer
Still the warblers forage, in silence,In myrtle fragrance as August turns autumnal. Day after day she sitsOn the same patch of grass,Her senses waning, the well-deep eyes enlargedBut not for…
Still the warblers forage, in silence,In myrtle fragrance as August turns autumnal. Day after day she sitsOn the same patch of grass,Her senses waning, the well-deep eyes enlargedBut not for…
Within the sooty pages of a half-read memoir, I find a pictureof Papa and me. Taken after we tumbled out of the death-defying rollercoaster ride. Hung lopsided, his smileunsure if…