April 1 2011

Prompt: What Brought You Here.


A noble deed,
drew me out from garbage,
where my first gasping breaths
sucked in rancid sardine scent
but mother’s milk was fine,
the space warm, the dark comforting,
and a muffled drone of traffic sounds
soothed us to sleep.

A box brought us then
to a house, loud and bright,
where feet approached without warning
and hands lifted me to terrifying heights
then put me back in the box.
They meant well.

I have adapted
to a life of proper baths,
regular meals, petting.

Yet sometimes, I remember
that great metal tunnel,
resonating with my sibings’ purrs,
and I yowl
once, maybe twice.