Seventh Mile Post
A ball of orangey, snowy fluff
Seven years ago
Sat snugly, blinking,
In the cusp of my palm
While two pairs of eyes
Just rising above the level of my palm
Poured out love and affection.
A third looked on with apprehension.
I stood contemplating on practicals
And busy storing images
In my private family album.
Now,
I wish it was I
Who sat in that palm
Whenever I wake up
To the purring on my pillow.
What the visitors say...
Dear aiya,
How lucky is the cat to get a birthday poem and wake up beside a poet! I enjoyed it but my
favourites are in the file. Will write about those little by little as time permits.
- Sunethra