L'aura del Campo

Look through me

Look through me

She snoozed behind the stove, oblivious to my calls, my pleading. Lost, I thought. Gone outside and ran away or huddling, frightened, hiding. She curled up tighter, calmed by a voice she always ignored.

Peaches and Beth Ann watched but did not help. Unconcerned, they went about their business. I looked everywhere! Twice. At least.

She did not move.

Eventually I saw her blues eyes staring up at me. Without a blink she went back to sleep.

Yes, "you remind me of her", I'll tell him someday. Graceful in movement, stunning with ice blue eyes, everybody's friend, but never mine. Like him... needing nothing, least of all from me. Once I took care of her when she was sick and she "made up"... for a moment. She quickly forgot. Oh, she was invulnerable, a sleek barn-born cat. She lived with me until she died. She was never mine.

Ice eyes
look through me
then close

© Kåre Enga 2010-07-13 [167.137.gz]



I thought of how hard it is to reach out when the other cat/person isn't reaching back. Does one continue to reach out? With love, yes. Only with love. The basis of the story is true. I searched for hours for Persia (she was a raccoon-faced chocolate siamese). I leave her name out of the "gzaibun" on purpose... as I leave out my friend's name... on purpose.



Picked up short throw-away books from the library. Free-cycle is great! Also found an issue of the local magazine, Camas and bought Poets&Writers.

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