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Three Kittens
by Glenn CurrierThree kittens delivered by a desperate friend
now claw at the walls
of their porcelain prison
in our guest bath.
We do a loving minimum
for the six inch squirmers
waiting for homes—
ours already claimed by Ginger
and two other furry lovers
rescued from New Orleans.
Our hearts already knot
with fear thinking of the long sleep
that may await them at the shelter,
following their mom
and her round black death
on the highway.
Knowing three is our limit,
we deny the compassion
yearning to live
beyond the pain
we refuse to imagine.
Trying to fall asleep
in the comfort of my suburb
remembering tonight's news
I ask myself
what tenderness whispers
faint beneath the guarded hearts
of soldiers learning of their buddies
lost to an i.e.d.
in Baghdad's darkness.
In this bed of softness
the barnacles of guilt
rub my petty kitten angst
as I search for false comfort.
But I find only a prayer
that some angel of light
might linger beyond this tour
to draw from their torn souls
a tidal flow of grace
and its wash of redemption.
05/25/2007 Posted on 05/25/2007
Copyright © 2024 Glenn Currier
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 05/25/07 at 12:44 PM Amen and Amen. Especially struck by the last stanza! This one should be POTD! |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 05/25/07 at 02:10 PM And maybe one of those kittens will find a good home with one of those soldiers returning from a tour of duty. Good descriptiveness from beginning to end Glenn. |
| Posted by Charles E Minshall on 05/25/07 at 03:08 PM YES amen Glenn, well done...Charlie |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 05/28/07 at 10:42 AM if I had not a well in me before to dig or to fill or eyes to syphon from that well, filled with the fluidity of this poem, I have them now, that well dug deep and eyes syphoning to their brim. |
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