My daughter’s friends put together a zine called What Withers about death and dying. I contributed a little cat poem, and figured I’d post it here since the zine is only available in print for Chicagoans in the know.
Webley
You were as thin as a kitten could be.
Then you got fat.
Then you got thin again.
So thin you could go where we couldn't go.
You're a contrary cat
So light and so heavy.