HERMES
Amarantha Françoise Dyuaaxchs
Soft black paws follow my call.
A black spot crouches, pounces, hunts,
Or cries at high pitch, or lays in a sprawl.
Streaks of dirt and snow and stone grey
Beg to go outside to chase
Grass and bugs, to dance and play,
But wind scares him back to his bonds of lace.
The greatest compliment ever found
Is unlimited, undenied attention.
His soft fur and begging sounds
Work me to get out of discipline.
Funny one, less than a year old,
I have to work. Close your eyes of gold.
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