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Poetry
When The Lady Cat Sings (Poem)
By James Strecker
October, 2005, 00:31

For Alex

At half past midnight of a memory

where beginning ends in trial by

woman, trial by man, the pains of

silence tap their absent-minded

fingertips on the life, once yours,

that maybe you possessed -but itís

fifty-fifty maybe. You find yourself

lonely and delicious on the cusp

of blessing made of music.

You care no more what to give or

what is given, for you are radiant

with equilibrium, and the voice you

hear confides some secret distance

in your heart, some long ago, some

place you walk up to music, like

music itself, and beware no more.

You hear singing, you hear the

goods of true, and the winds of

morning perfume keep blowing

your way. Happy rules the joint;

you cannot dance, but you dance.

And somewhere between a love

song and an overdose of souvenirs,

not looking back but here alone, you

are wise to love, and comp your

blood cells easy as she sings. You

rest your unwashed eyes where the

elegant fingers of night embrace your

sleep and drink her singing in, like

vials of spunky champagne. Then

drunk with easy steps and silly with

wisdom, you dance into love on all

the deepening seas around you. 

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© 2002, James Strecker



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