Monday, August 25, 2014

Pieces of String

The kitten and I and a piece of string
Are proving that sport is a simple thing,
A matter of guessing which way to run,
A chance that is lost or a chance that is won:
A jerk, and the string is mine, and then
A pounce, and the kitten has it again;
Were it not for wit, I could not be
The match of a cat's muscularity.
If I grow weary of play and drop
My end, the kitten will quickly stop
His antics; for string is merely string,
Though it seemed so like a living thing.
The kitten may curl himself in sleep,
While I sit still with the thoughts I keep
Of many strings that are quiet now,
And many more I must seize somehow.


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