Transmogrified, the moggies thrive <br />among the columns. <br /> <br />Was the unknown temple <br />dedicated to some migrating Bastet, <br />an early mouser with ideas above <br />her earthly station? <br /> <br />One guides me formally along a path, <br />a curt miaow if I misstep, a paw <br />upraised in warning. Others sit <br />in trees, on columns, Delphic <br />in their dreams. <br /> <br />Three-legged ginger tom, his glide <br />above lost limb, patrols with easy pace <br />along the walls and bars. <br /> <br />Signs all around implore <br />all doting humans not to feed <br />the over-fed and neutered cats; <br />beautiful banditti, <br />whiskers all aloft, <br />condescend to scratching <br />behind ears, a spine-rub, <br />and devour ice-cream.... <br />pizza... candy... <br />dreams.<br /><br />Kathleen Griffin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/largo-argentina/
