That Always Love
Modern poetry mode444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444444ry poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
My Prospero remembers always love
Is just one option. When I stroke his ears,
He’s easily distracted. There above
His teeth I rub his whiskers. Almost tears
Of bliss come out from membranes on his eyes,
But nearly anything at all deflects
Him. Any tiny sound outside makes him despise
The cuddling. Huntingly this cat neglects
My loving if he gets the slightest sight
Of something, anything, that moves across
His field of half-screened vision, some slight flight
Of some wee mite of life. Then there’s a loss
Of interest in my wooing fingers. Bang!
He wants to use his claw and loveless fang.