It's Still Life

Cat Scratch

What shape of fate made
you Cat. Ginger stripe or
cinnamon spice. Cat at
the window, centre stage.

Cat scratch on paper,
you’re a poet you said.
A cat named Dylan,
gin-soaked and sleeping
on the floor. To rack and

ruin is the phrase he used.
Cat at the door, black as
a dark night, speaking
to and replying “We”.

And cats who joke about
three slippers by the bed.

for Miz Quickly’s 3 July prompt: Cats