A Poetic Transcript
A poem
A poem
She settles into the chair, steaming mug in hand, and begins…
“Well, let me tell you about the time… hmm…”
A pause, eyes drifting towards the window.
“Ok, so it was last summer, you know how it gets,
that heavy heat just weighing everything down?
Anyway, I was out in the garden, pulling weeds and whatnot,
when I heard…” Her voice lifts, replicating discovery.
“This little meowing? Just the tiniest sound, but I knew.
I looked over by the garage and there, underneath…
oh, underneath the rhododendron, was this scrap of a kitten.
Couldn’t have been more than a few weeks old, just skin and bones basically.”
Her tone gentles, reliving the tenderness.
“Well, you know me, I couldn’t just leave it there, could I?
So I got an old towel, wrapped it up real careful-like,
and brought it inside. The poor thing was shaking,
but as soon as I gave it some warm milk… oh, you should’ve seen those eyes.”
She smiles, far away in memory.
“Brightest green, looking up at me like…” She falters briefly.
“Like I was something special, you know? Anyway,
that’s how we ended up with Ginger. Wild thing she was at first,
but she turned into the sweetest, most loving cat, followed me everywhere…”
Her voice trails off wistfully, story complete.
The pause hangs, savored before she meets my gaze once more.
“More tea, dear?”
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