Poems

Midnight

by Jennifer Pitcock

It didn?t matter that I
wasn?t the same species as her,
she was my mother
nonetheless.

I was just an overlarge kitten
that had never learned how to
meow or purr or lick myself clean
(so she obliged to do that for me).

Or perhaps--more likely--
She saw herself as a person
of smaller stature
who simply spoke a different language
than the rest of us.

Either way, she was my fur-mother
and I was her flesh-child
and nothing could come between us--
not appearances, not DNA, not death.

Especially not death.




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