Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

the cat is curled

  the cat is curled
in a ball,

red, orange, green and gold
silk cushions

she sleeps near
the sun
an old woman's snore

fading fast
like colours of silk,
red, orange, green and gold.















— Kailashana, Jul 13, 2009

About This Poem

About the Author

More from this author

Critiques

infinite_dwarf

infinite_dwarf

16 years 11 months ago

Anna

Had a cat in the title, of course I had to stop in and check it out! Do the red, green, orange, and gold have significance, or was it used to re-enforce the image? ~Jess K. ----------------------- "Why worry? There should be laughter after pain. There should be sunshine after rain. These things have always been the same. So why worry now?" - Dire Straits
Kailashana

Kailashana

16 years 11 months ago

Both. I have 4 large silk

Both. I have 4 large silk cushions stacked on atop the other in front of my living room window...Mimi (foot kitty) had made them her own since day one, though the windows are UV-resistant, the silk is fading. Of course, the ending works well with the repetition. Thanks for reading, Jess. ~A "Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood." T. S. Eliot
Candlewitch

Candlewitch

16 years 11 months ago

Hi Anna

The cat dragged me in, lol, and I stayed for the last line. I like the contrast. Always, Cat
M

meic

16 years 10 months ago

Can’t keep cats anymore

Can't keep cats anymore [allergy, not mine] ... though I don't suppose one ever does keep cats do they? Cats choose. I've had two pairs: This and That who both hated snow so much they would hop across the snow-covered garden in such a way that only one paw was in contact with the snow at any time. The second two [Topsy and Turvy] were feral cats whose mother had been killed for taking chickens. They were fiercely independent, but also incredibly loyal. Topsy was stolen, but returned bedraggled and with his neck badly scarred where he had tried to remove the collar his thieves had attached. No wonder! They had a name-tag - Poppet!! - Topsy was nobody's poppet, though he did enjoy my lap. And his snores blended beautifully with mine. I look down. No cat ... bereft! Mike "not all matterings of mind equal one violet" ~ e e cummings ~
Kailashana

Kailashana

16 years 10 months ago

Thanks for sharing your

Thanks for sharing your story & your Haikuesque cat-poem, Meic... I guess I'm like a cat, I can't be *owned* by anyone, yet I am purrrfectly loyal. ;-) ~A "Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood." T. S. Eliot