Cat’s Domain -- poetry by Isabel Brozen
In the window seat
Wonders about the world.
Greeted at the door,
Wishing whiskers brush the cracked glass pane.
Fur black -
Spattered on new paper like ink spot spray.
Dusty footprints in the printer tray
Book dust, old paper fraying at the edges
Baking bread crust and lemon scented wood.
Cat sits high on wooden shelf ledges
Waking from her nap contented,
Sleek and spry.
Sleeps in hanging planters
In the gilded sunbeam window.
Midnight enchanter, like a dark dye stain,
From her throne sits, surveying Cat’s domain
Of tile stone and champagne curtain cords of lace.
Rolling ringing pennies over floor boards, under carpets sewn in gold
Springing from a doting parent’s hold to chase
Quilted piles, adoring smiles, and wilted flower petals.
Returning to her hiding tower nook with nothing to atone
Gliding through the books, only claws to hone.
Lies knowing she is prized, half lidded glowing eyes
Watching gossamer drapes billow
In tantalizing shapes
Over sunlight painted streets.
Plaster dust motes floating like the feathers sprung from pillows
Left in window seats for cats.
Isabel Brozen is a sophomore at Kimball Union Academy in New Hampshire. She likes the way words sound when they are meant to be kind and empowering. She spent a lot of her childhood learning how to make pictures with adjectives, though she’s seldom shown these pictures to anyone outside her circle of friends. She is learning how to not be anti-social. She hopes to learn from people from all walks of life. Books are her windows into other worlds. She is still figuring out who she is.