Burned brightly, a poem. Homage to Murphy (my cat) and Blake.

Burned brightly

The tiger can no longer burn bright

the proud predator yearns to slumber

as the breath is labored and reluctant

catabolic cancer consumes all

evenly

alike

the cat that once dreamt of fire

now waits while the embers are fated to be

as the frost

on the glass

of the smudged

window

that beckons the smoke to stain

the view-bright, so bright to be dull-

The asymmetry of the palsied face

invokes memories

as the tiger pounces

on to a silk pillow’s sheen and

Purrs, and Primps, and Watches

the prey mocking birds

parade on the dying

lawn of autumn.

The tiger is fed

claws retract.

The breath is labored

The slumber is not.