The Old Woman and the Gray
Cat
When the gray cat with matted fur arrives at the glass door, surfacing
again out of winter's wide maw, the old woman with bad teeth
stops
flipping burgers long enough to bring two pieces of half-stale bacon.
She does not lecture the cat on politics or theology or the trouble
with stray cats in today's world. "There you are," she says, placing
the
pieces of bacon on the cold cement, then returns to her work.
The gray cat with matted fur eats every crumb, then wanders off into
the weeds around the side of the building, disappearing into the gray
beyond the railroad tracks.
Copyright 2001, Jay Udall
Jay Udall teaches English and creative writing at Blue Mountain Community
College in Pendleton, Oregon. His poems and short stories have appeared
in many publications, including South Dakota Review, Potpourri,
Georgetown Review, Wind, and Potomac Review. Bellowing
Ark Press published his first book of poetry, Learning the Language.
|