Friday, October 23, 2009

Alley Cat

by Christine Bruness

After four martinis—
straight up
with three olives a piece,
I embraced the winter air
carrying my coat
content to walk
the three blocks
home alone…
when the moonlight
and broken neon bar signs
the alley cat’s eyes
peering from the trash cans,
studying the other drunks
that were staggering
their way to the street.
I bent down and whispered,
“You’re soooo beautiful,”
over and over until
it slowly revealed
its emaciated body:
gray fur with cuts and scratches
and a weeping left eye.
I scooped it up
in my arms and learned
“it” was a she.
I cradled her inside my coat.
“You’re safe now, little puss,”
I whispered.
She did not object,
only melodiously purred,
paws gently placed
on my forearms
as if she knew
I was and will forever be
a sober and drunken sucker
for felines in distress.

*Christine Bruness is a writer and artist. Her first book: Imbalance, An Experimental Collection of Micro Stories and Poetry, received the Rose/Rosemary Zientek 2000 Award. In June 2008, Christine’s book: Alley Cat, won the 2008 Covert Press Poetry Chapbook Contest and was published by Covert Press.

1 comment:

  1. each line is a world of loneliness. wow-