Waking up slowly
back to back with my cat
I lie in bed motionless
on my side.
Blood runs thoroughly
in my slender arms
but one hand is cold
and the other is hot.
I open my eyes
to eclectic lights,
gold of the lamp and
gentle lilac of the sunrise,
to the newborn morning
only learning to fight
but ready to be replaced,
like teenage soldier.
I recognize my world
and its simple laws
accepting the thought
that I am a part of the whole,
and I am responsible,
and that all my words
will be forgotten
before they are heard.
Comments
I like the flow of this one.
I like the flow of this one. The image of the poet and the cat is wonderful, and an interesting image to frame the poem with, since the poem seems to deal with twos: one hand cold, the other hot; learning to fight, but ready to be replaced; a part of the whole who is responsible, but easily forgotten. The cat image, back to back, to me, is an image of unity, but also opposition or separateness. Powerful poem.
Thank you, you are a great
Thank you, you are a great reader, you make me want to write more.