Prospero and Catnip

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

I gave my Prospero his catnip treats

Whenever I remembered to.  He did

Not know how he could ask.  No kitty tweets

Were sent from him to make a tomcat bid

For them.  He did not have a laptop or

A phone.  If I forgot, he did not get

His hit of kitty drug.  He paced the floor,

But if that meant (to him), “Please don’t forget

The fix I want,” I did not understand.

One evening he went out, customary

His twilight leap to freedom.  Nothing grand…

He just went out:  nothing really scary.

  He never came back in.  The catnip lies

    Inside its plastic tub–because of death’s surprise.

©  Phillip Whidden