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The Cat That Once Was Feral
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By Rich Tassinari
Other Poems by Rich Tassinari


The Cat That Once Was Feral

The sliding door between the wild and tame
Is made of glass and held within a frame,
She often sits on one side and looks out
To where in prior days she’d leap and shout.

Inside is her domain, she’s measured it,
And anything that’s changed, stirs her a bit,
But soon she settles in again to find
The chair, though moved, is just as soft and kind.

Her relatives, however, live away
From where she now has entered and does stay,
And when they sit and watch her through the door,
She puffs and is a feral cat once more.

Rich Tassinari 8/20/2014

I have been many times amused by watching the injured feral cat we took in and nursed. Since we feed many feral cats, her relatives still roam our yard and will look in on Penny who jumps at the glass of the sliding door as if to play with them.


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Submitted: Thursday, August 21, 2014

Last Updated: Friday, August 22, 2014

About the Poet
Husband, father, grandfather, and each title is my joy. As a youth, poetry was a means to express the inexpressable. I was attracted to (and still am) the beauty and brevity of verse. All flows out from God, and like a proper prayer, can flow back.


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