kitten little, sometimes big,
walking through the streets alone,
puddle water, garbage cans,
sometimes an abandoned bone.
boxes set for mornings haul,
make shelter from the freezing rain,
kicks and stones and shouted words,
she stumbles past, ignores the pain.
born into an alley, grown,
no memories to give her place,
her only clue a collar, red,
that takes her into kitten-space.
in form, a scrawny alley-cat,
black and white with bright green eyes,
the colors meld in formless shapes,
to make the shadows her disguise.
in kitten shape she eats and sleeps,
then grows again at each sunrise,
when big, she stands a scrawny teen,
with ebon hair and emerald eyes.
tail that hangs so limply down,
and ears that hear a mouses cry,
invisible, intangible, but present,
real, and not insanitys’ sweet lie.
her hair so long and tangled falls,
across her fearful, tearful eyes,
hiding the skin so ivory white,
torn by hate in loves disguise.
skin that’s never felt soft hand,
a mothers touch, a fathers love,
never felt a sweet caress,
just icy air and a strangers shove.
where will she end, this kitten, lost,
who is there to take her in,
how did she come, and at what cost,
what secrets lie beneath her skin?