Simple Pleasures

Penny Wofford

If I were safe at home

I would write about

Cats of myriad colors

Silvery, shimmery cats

Black cats, burnished copper by the sun

Orange cats winding around my ankles

Licking my toes with sandpaper tongues.

 

If I could measure tranquility in words

I would pen soft paws

Cradling my face, loving sentinels

On watch, keeping bad dreams at bay.

 

But I only dream of tranquility now

As I navigate rush hour reality

Cacophonous jungle. Metal and rubber

Predators, first lunging, then retreating

Regrouping for each onslaught

On innocents like me—

Just out for milk and bread.

 

So I write of chaos and noise

Strum and drang

People blindly accelerating, suicidal insects

Hurling themselves at my windshield.

Somewhere above the discordant clamor,

A serendipitous sonnet of cats

 

Whispers in my ear, begging to be heard.

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