I’ve been baking today and love the swirly patterns made when the treacle and the egg are being beaten into the flour and spice mixture.
Next door’s cat, Zorro, found our step ladders this morning – a good viewpoint from which to survey the land.
I was wondering which poems I know about cats and considered ‘Skimbleshanks’ and ‘Macavity the Mystery Cat’ by T S Elliott both of which I used to read with my pupils when I taught in Primary school (Plover in Doncaster and what a happy place that was!) Then I remembered this little gem by Carl Sandburg. What a treasure of a metaphor this whole poem is.
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.