just be

By justbe

I See You

The Cat Of The House

Author: Ford Madox Ford (1873-1939)


Over the hearth with my 'minishing eyes I muse; until after
the last coal dies.
Every tunnel of the mouse,
every channel of the cricket,
I have smelt,
I have felt
the secret shifting of the mouldered rafter,
and heard
every bird in the thicket.
I see
you
Nightingale up in the tree!
I, born of a race of strange things,
of deserts, great temples, great kings,
in the hot sands where the nightingale never sings!




The birds are not cooperating, the weather is humid and I came in from searching for winged things to find a drama unfolding in the kitchen. Raspberry was attending to her suit. She was above the kitchen cabinets on a tray where my brother had tucked his pipes when he reluctantly quit smoking. She twirled and nearly knocked them down, and they had to be rescued by G boosted up on a kitchen chair. The chair remained in the rescue position and well, you see the shot I caught.


Our thoughts are with Kendall.

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