Edie

This is my sweet baby as a baby. Loyd and Whitney call her the hell cat, but I'm certain you can see how sweet she is just by looking into her eyes.
Awwwwwwww.......
The kitties of the house!
And now, another poem by Denise Potter
© 1996

A Light Omlette

Pure white, the cat crouches
in a trapezoid of light,
golden eyes locked
on the crystal egg
hanging by a thread,
a prism slowly spinning,
scattering sunbeams
to odd corners of the room
hatching
shards of radiance
more beautiful when broken:
infant rainbows
laughing and dancing
just beyond her ken.

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