Things That Bang-

The animals were imperfect,
long-tailed,
unfortunate in their heads.
Little by little they
put themselves together,
making themselves a landscape,
acquiring spots, grace, flight.
The cat,
only the cat
appeared complete and proud:
he was born completely finished,
walking alone and knowing what he wanted.
... the cat
only wants to be a cat
and any cat is a cat
from his whiskers to his tail,
from his hopeful vision of a rat
to the real thing,
from the night to his golden eyes. (Pablo Neruda, "Ode To The Cat")

« Fiction: Cherries | Main | In The Dark Embrace »

Angel

Posted by Deepti Lamba on May 30, 2010 05:40 PM StumbleUpon Toolbar Stumble It! digg this del.icio.us Fark It | Permalink

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Deepti Lamba is an aspiring writer and an editor for Desicritics. She can be found at Things That Bang and at Suspended Moments

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Angel

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