Posts Tagged With: Cleavers

CATMADNESS

 

Back in the 1970’s, when I was living and working in Virginia,
a friend came to work one morning and told me a story
about his cat, his girlfriend and a squeaky brass bed.
The cat kept thinking that he was hearing a mouse
and would come into the bedroom to investigate.
His story inspired this poem.

 

Digitally enhanced image created from a photo of Sherlocke, my incredible cat, taken in November 1974.


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