A cat is curled and sleeping. His clipped ear
shows. “That’s how we know,” a volunteer
explained. (It’s all the information we gain)
In his new home he dreams about the year—
twitching, crying out, remembering rain.
His sunny lanai is serene. Then hurricane.
A neighbor child hoots and screeches. Fast
and blatantly brash. It’s her domain.
Repeating words again and again. Outcast.
”Play elsewhere”, they tell young enthusiast.
From carpet austere, cat listens. Places one
mushroom colored paw over his ears at last.
But now is the soft sound of day being done.
All the leaves have fallen, red as the sun.
Grass grown. Engines down. Darkness begun,
waking the cat and the night in unison.
{The rubaiyat is a lovely and challenging form. I learned quite a bit about its origins and about Fitzgerald’s work (a translation with a unique beauty of its own) which popularized it. I am looking forward to reading it in its entirety in the near future. Linking to dVerse.}
Green Tea and Poetry 
I like how that cat sleeps through the hurricane of day but wakes to the darkness of night at the end.
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Thanks, Frank 😊
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This is skillfully crafted, demonstrated your appreciation for the form.
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Thank you 😊
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Very welcome
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Fabulous imagery in this! I especially like that mushroom paw – perfect, perfect! Well written, Sophia.
I also love the content of this poem – my daughter adopted a cat after Hurricane Irma – the kitty’s people lost their home. Sweet story here 🙂
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Thank you, Jilly 😊
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Great conflict and narration – cats are indeed worthy of stories. That last stanza has mystery and mood, kinda like a cat. Really like your style of writing.
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Thank you, Alexander 😊
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