Thursday, 11 September 2025

LOULOU

 LOULOU


Green marbled eyes

your whiskers emerge from

black points.

I can see the reflexion of 

the window behind me in

your eyes which look at me

pleading or loving.

you dip your paw into my mug of milk

and like corned beef.

17 years my friend, we have been together,

never a cross word, never a scratched chair

Loulou, sweet, saintly Loulou

persecutated by the brutal Max

jealous of your calm and joyful ease.

Loulou if cats could be saints

You would win the crown.



Copyright L. Ivison 2025

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