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Editor's note: The author asked me to
remove
this poem because it is an early effort and not
up to his current standards; but because I love
it so much, he agreed to let me repost it.
Lodger
To
the mewing at my kitchen door
I
open up and let come in
From
a night of showers and wind-roar
The
old familiar one
At
a late-early hour.
Whiskers,
wild dark eyes, and purr!
O
she is mad with affection
As
the caught stars of Atlantic droplets glint
In
the night earth-heaven of black fur;
And
now is a good weight in my arms,
A
damp paw on my neck's hot skin:
Vision
of random otherness comes,
And
it complements this glare within;
So
something in me gently yields
As
I am touched by this untouched,
And
printed by wide night-fields.
Gerry
Cambridge
©
Gerry Cambridge. From The Shell House,
Scottish
Cultural Press; reprinted by
permission
of the author.
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