Free Verse

 

 

Helen Bar-Lev   The Ginger Cat Again   This morning the ginger cat with white paws and face almost fourteen years old jumped from the top of the refrigerator to a far cabinet and back I photographed him in mid-leap a streak of orange with a tail was captured by the camera But now I suspect he's dead one hundred percent dead except he's breathing when I check to see how far along he is in the process of dying he bites me This cat has developed a relaxation strategy akin to an art form, worthy of patent, so that meditation masters may learn from him; when he next wakes up, a few hours from now, or perhaps tomorrow, I'll suggest he write an autobiography     Cheepy the Cat   I have been away for three days and Cheepy the cat, almost fourteen, grumpy most of the time, sleeping the rest, which is more-or-less around-the-clock, has missed me He disturbs himself from his basket downstairs where he hides from the two new kittens and the rest of the world, and come up to my studio, buries his ginger furriness in my arms, and sleeps on the desk next to me Cheepy doesn’t talk much nowadays but when he does he says a lot