I wanted to get out on the water and land my first forward loop, my first shove-it. But alas, the windless and my own exhausted limbs prevented another try at that. Here is the first stanza of my first lonely cat lady poem (how many thousands of those have been written this week, lol??), and possibly the first poem I've written about my preteen pet, Micki. I think it's gonna be a sestina, but I'm not sure.
Another Lonely Cat Lady
I have no cats—
not since found Micki, her mouth and black
nose bleeding. I held her to my brand new breasts,
I wanted to get out on the water and land my first forward loop, my first shove-it. But alas, the windless and my own exhausted limbs prevented another try at that. Here is the first stanza of my first lonely cat lady poem (how many thousands of those have been written this week, lol??), and possibly the first poem I've written about my preteen pet, Micki. I think it's gonna be a sestina, but I'm not sure.
Another Lonely Cat Lady
I have no cats—
not since found Micki, her mouth and black
nose bleeding. I held her to my brand new breasts,
my hands in her tuxedo coat. The snow deep,
the ground frozen too hard
to bury her. I was thirteen. She was three.