Kahlua.
Finicky Kahlua
In seminal light before day arrives,
Kahlua at the bed corner, not at my side.
Tortoise shell feline, I well recognize,
morning sighting, immobile, statuesque, affixed.
Adult housemember, intently still,
craving morsels, not purring,
not employing beggary, no welcoming licks.
Poised demeanor, rufled demanding seeking attention,
muscles taut, athletic posture,
not frolicking rolling, well rehearsed tricks.
Leaps through wooden slats, twisting stairways no falls.
I fumble and stumble half asleep,
Kahlua's pacing for new food to eat.
I clean her dishes, dumping the trash,
she unrelentingly questions, hazard and asks,
"The old taste is boring,a fresh can a treat."
Alas doesn't appreciate the offering,
slides to the patio window,
searches around, satiated I guess,
without gesture or sound.
June 2002
Author: Roy Schoenberg - Bay Shore, New York, USA
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