she waits,
focused on
a dripless tap
needing human
thumbed hands
to release a stream,
as my grandpas fondly
said, ‘to wet her whistle'
with life giving water,
my grama’s 'adam’s ale'
to wash her whiskers
in wobbling rivulets
splashing, bouncing
over the tiny barbs
dotting her rosy
feline tongue
to quench
her mighty
thirst
I retired from public school teaching after happily spending twenty eight years playing in Kindergarten. Now I fill my days watching cat antics, taking endless...
