Shelter

Elizabeth Knies

A black cat, eyes of round gold,
crouches at the back of the metal cage.

A tabby comes forward
to be touched through the bars.

An old fellow,
injured and half blind,
who will want him?

Who will take the two
whose person has died,
or the unwanted litter
dropped at the door?

The lost, the stray,
the given up, the abandoned,
the sick, the abused—

rest, like all the helpless of this earth,
in the balance of Yes and No.



June, 2006


WE WELCOME YOUR FEEDBACK RETURN TO SECTION