When I try to log the day,
The black cat always presents herself.
She is barely known and has little impact,
But she is first.
The dogs announce her presence.
They are always angry,
Envious, jealous, resentful.
Sometimes, she struts to the door
as if she were about to ring the bell.
She wonders independently aimless,
She gets food dedications, free from
Warm-hearted neighbors.
stillfugue 
#1 by Richard on December 29, 2010 - 8:10 pm
I particularly enjoyed this piece – the combination of strong symbolic resonance with enough uncertainty for ‘meaning’ to be ellusive. The poem invited me in but then made me question. I’ve enjoyed the other pieces I’ve read here, too (Ms Two Fingers definitely made me chuckle). Wishing you good writing in 2011.
#2 by Carl on December 29, 2010 - 9:38 pm
Richard,
Thank you for your comment. It means a great deal to me. I have enjoyed your work tremendously.