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Green-Eyed Masseuse

24 Mar

Finally, getting horizontal to sleep
breathing gets deeper
start to drift off. . .
a signal to my cat, Tinga

she moves in dark shadows like a ghost
stealthy, then I see two slanted green eyes
shining in the dark, and I know
she’s stalking
…wait for it— wait …
POUNCE– clonk… onto my solar plexus
her shining eyes menacing over mine
and it’s the same ritual
repeated every evening
but sometimes she lands on my face
and then play-nips my cheek
to make sure I’m paying attention

she proceeds to walk up and down,
taking a leisurely stroll
on my somewhat ample belly
she seems to be trying
to find a squishy, comfortable spot
to sleep on
dancing, continuous dancing,
her paws up and down
she is kneading my body like I’m
her Pilsbury Doughboy
if I shoo her away, she stubbornly starts
the whole number from the top

she walks my back sometimes too
alternating her claw-retracted paws
like a good masseuse,
can a cat be a reiki healer?

© Brian Hodgkinson Jr. (aka) Limericist 2006 

 
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Posted by on March 24, 2021 in Poetry

 

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