Monday, September 19, 2011

Where's The Animal?

'You animal!'
I lifted my head, alert now, ready to spring away
if things got really ugly, my tail flicking,
and watched

as they lunged
and lumbered, blotchy-red screaming faces
spittle-thick with hate raw like blisters, circling
each other.

When things
began to be thrown, wounds opening up, mess
splattering, the roaring gone really crazy now,
I left.

Hopping lightly
off the couch, my favourite soft cosy spot
good for surveying the inner house and keeping
a watch

on things,
I absented myself, with all the calm assurance
of my breed - contained, lithe, unhurried.
Truly a queen.

The back porch
afforded its sunny protection, and I casually washed
as I waited for the human din to subside.
The noise fell.

After some time
I could hear the strained, murmuring voices
of reconciliation and then - louder, gruffer:
'Where's the animal?'

28 August 2011

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