Cool Cat
I lap my poetry from the saucer
feeling the warmth of the fire
as I nestle into the perfect spot
by the window
here on the back of the couch
where I can doze
as the gray afternoon
of the spring day
showers me in the comfort of
words rhyming
words comparing
words telling
words purring
words lapping up every smudge
in the fur of my life
words disguising things like me
on the back of the couch
absorbing every poem drop
falling from the gray spring sky
lapping it up from a saucer of tea
dripping onto this page
where I cough my contentment
onto the page—this hairball—
and my wife doesn’t even recognize
her cool cat
If you want to hear me read this one aloud go to Instagram or Twitter and find it under #poetrywithpotter or find it on my feeds.
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