Watching you fighting
I am amazed at
your tenacious grip,
and that slippery twist
of hip, and shoulder,
that keeps you standing.
Even when you fall
you seem to come down
on your feet.
Hard to believe
this is the same you
that sprawls soft on the sofa,
all liquid limbs;
that spends hours
watching something shiny,
chasing some fleck of light.
And, yes, you are affectionate,
curling warm beside me,
but I know that left alone
you’d survive, somehow,
and that sometimes
the forest calls you.
This is for Kim at dVerse, who is asking us to write about a person as if they are an animal, or an animal as if they are a person. I’m not entirely sure which way round I’ve done it! I feel I should clarify that my son does judo, so it’s not just random fighting we’re talking about. It’s a funny sport. You watch kids turning on their fight head, and then sitting chatting with the kid they’ve just been battling with a few minutes later.
This is lovely Sarah, the harmony between you and your cat , your acceptance of his wild side, his acceptance of your home comforts and the great love that lives between you ☺💖 xxx
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Yes, no matter the comforts of home, we’ll never escape the call of the forest.
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This is amazing. The dichotomy within kids, their ease in moving on, their ability to recover from adversity.
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I do love the perfect feline feeling in your words The liquidity and way of falling is perfect, as is that sense of not surrender to be tame.
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Thanks, Bjorn. I hope it worked!
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It’s good to trust that should they be left alone they will survive.
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I admire that liquid limbs and the way the forest calls you ~ Good one Sarah ~
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Ah, the boy and the cat and their shared independence. We mothers are helpless in the face of it, aren’t we. Nice write!
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