Woman of the House
The cat roams the house
like it owns the place
talking to humans only
when hungry or wanting
a door open
She can be found
where the sun shines
like on a window sill
or in complete darkness
like a closet
depending upon her mood
She makes few friends
and is absolutely in love
with the woman of the house
which is sometimes her
Even now I’m not sure
why I ever give her
the time of day
or her very own poem
january two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved






