Kittens!

Kittens!
 
They sleep in the sunlight,
watched over by the neighbor girl
who has named them
Callie, Velcro and Bighead.
 
She has pictures of kittens
and kitten books
and kitten dolls
and this litter is a gift.
Mama Cat appears
and licks them awake.
 
She pets the kittens now,
cooing as they fight for a place
at Mama Cat's belly.
 
Mama Cat is done nursing
and my neighbor picks up Velcro
and holds him to her heart.
His claws dig painfully in,
holding him there
when she takes her hands away.
 
I have had to bury one already.
In the backyard, under the fig tree,
where last year we had
a hummingbird feeder.
Mama Cat would sit under it,
eyeing the delicacies.
 
I dreamt of birds as a little girl.
I wanted parrots, cockatiels, finches.
In my young dreams,
song would fill my home.
 
The red feathers of a cardinal
are splashed across the front porch
as Mama Cat basks smugly in the sun
surrounded by her babies.
I rub the scar beneath my navel
and go for the broom.
 
 
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