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Tribune : Poetry |
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A Crazy Cat Woman poem by Werecat99 |
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I saw an old woman yesterday. Just before sun dusk, she appeared from the twilight, An old hag, dressed in dusty ragged clothes, Hunched back, walking with a limp, With dirty locks of gray hair circling her wrinkled face. All her earthly belongings were in a rusty shopping cart, Which twisted and screamed as she pushed it around. She sat down at a bench at the park and called the cats. As if they came out of the air, many cats appeared. With their tails erected and trembling in anticipation, They greeted her with hungry mews. People passed by as she searched her bags for food. Well dressed mothers with their children, Looking and laughing at the old crone. “Look at her”, they said, “a crazy old woman, With no friends or family, who feeds the cats.” And they mocked her, and laughed at her, The children called her names and threw garbage to her. But she did not react to their mockery, As if she did not notice them, until they went away. All she did was to search her dirty cart for food. And from her plastic bags she took out treats for every cat, And for every cat she had a blessing. After they finished their simple feast, The cats circled around her, mewing softly. Black cats, tabby cats, toms and queens, And a young mother brought her kitten, - the one that had escaped human poison - As if she asked for her blessing. And she petted them all, allowing them To climb on her knees, shoulders and broken back. But then night fell and the Full Moon rose. The cats left the park to go on with their feline business. The night was young and the mice were many. Slowly, the old hag rose from the bench, Gathered her things in the rusty cart, And walked away with a limp, pushing the cart away. But as She walked away, It seemed to my mortal eyes, That She no longer was a hag. Her feet lifted from the earth And She walked upon a moonbeam, Taking Her place in Heavens Next to Her Lion-Headed Sister. |
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