By Rebekah Rademacher
-
autumn pumpkin and black splotch
your white fur,
fur that sticks up in every
direction,
like the bristles of an old
toothbrush.
as I scratch behind your ears you
yawn and flatten,
flatten your little furry body and
stretch,
like pancake dough when it first
hits the pan.
your squeaks and wheeks are loudest
when it’s time for food,
food that’s purple and green leafy
lettuce or a slice of red apple as a treat,
like food is all your tiny mind
cares about.
but when life is troubling I notice
longer cuddles,
cuddles where you warm my lap, curl
up on my arm, perch on my shoulder,
Like you understand me more than I
thought you could.
About the Author
Rebekah is a current sophomore at ICC. Her poems have been published in Volume I of Illinois Central Review. She works part time as a barista and loves coffee. When she's not writing, she may be found reading, crocheting or hiking, and probably spoiling her two guinea pigs.