Circle of Stray Quatorzains

The Dowager

Orange-and-black-winged, two butterflies
sip at the purple chives.  The cat
folds her tail and poses wise
and solemn, a gray-furred dowager
aloof from frivolous moths at their meat.
You stroke her chin.  She starts to purr
and stretch, forgetful of her dignity.
The dowager is still a kitten,
for all her venerable years.
I look, and in your eyes I see,
though you wrinkle, your youth will sweeten
your sour age.  Your sight may fade,
your hearing go, your memory weaken,
but you'll still want to watch the parade.

Next Poem:  "The Presence"
List of Poem Circles
Updated last on:  2001/05/24