I think he was trying
to tell us something.
He could not form words
so all that was left for him
was to cry.

I always cringed when I heard them.
There were so tragic in that domestic lifestyle.
I wanted to help him, to understand him,
but I usually let the wails pass by.

It was so sullenly bright outside.
The melting snow
reflected off the already white walls.
The snow seemed to always have
some sort of power over me.
I don't mean the beautiful crystals
as they drop- that's a different story...
but the sparse snow left on the ground.
It's intimidating,
a force that won't go away;
a gloomy reminder.
Aye, the snow has a lovelier story
when it falls.

No one else was there,
but the occasional cars passed by.
That was the only noise,
except for his cries.

& for the first time I understood.
Maybe we were stifling him... I'm not sure,
but I did know how he felt in just that
little moment.
Somehow, I did
as I listened to his descending meows.

12/07/2005

Author's Note: There's a lack of inspiration here... a lack of emotion.

Posted on 12/08/2005
Copyright © 2024 Rebecca Lin