For August and Enkidu
Hello, Enkidu,
my favorite black cat.
He is our only black cat
but doesn't need to know that.
Even among the thousands of black cats
in the world, though, he would nonetheless
be my favorite with those impurities of light brown tufts
that sprout here and there amid the dusty looking black that doesn't
glisten in the sunlight like the panther's almost blue-black coat and that
of August, my best friend from college's sleek and friendly black cat
surely dead but well remembered now after all these years.
my favorite black cat.
He is our only black cat
but doesn't need to know that.
Even among the thousands of black cats
in the world, though, he would nonetheless
be my favorite with those impurities of light brown tufts
that sprout here and there amid the dusty looking black that doesn't
glisten in the sunlight like the panther's almost blue-black coat and that
of August, my best friend from college's sleek and friendly black cat
surely dead but well remembered now after all these years.
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Author's Note
One must love the black cats in the world
Other stories by Gary Hardaway
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Suitably elegant!
Our black cat is bigger than your black cat. *
While I'm reading this, our orange lioness, five pounds of regality and grace watches, bemused, my fingers on the keyboard.
Enkidu sounds like a fitting name...
Good form, Gary.
"Even among the thousands of black cats
in the world, though, he would nonetheless
be my favorite..."
I like the piece.
I like the wise and wistful sentiment expressed here.*
Thanks to everyone. I welcome your readings and responses.
The poem stretches out on the page like...a cat!