Twice-Written

To the Cat God:

This is the poem I never wrote for you.

Would that I could write it twice; I would write it anew.

Listening with ears, looking with eyes,

feeling almost human, to my surprise,

though not unlike a shrew in cat’s disguise.

The object of my ruse, the greatest of my fears

is felinity in fox couture, wild despite five-thousand years.

Sing; dance–speak, perchance.

Strike a pose, and show me how you feel.

Stay. Play. Take your scales and weigh.

Only say the word, and I shall be healed.

This is the poem I never wrote for you.

Would that I could write it twice; I would right it anew.

From a church mouse