Kitten Tokyo, June 13, 1991
(Caring for something helpless helps to curb one’s self-absorption
– a dazing (sic) experience).
Blind she came into our lives
But she helped us to see
A little more compassion.
The pain of her cries
Throughout two nights
Articulated for us
The delicate connection
Between our lives pain-free usually
Safe and secure together.
She was alone, terrifyingly tiny, but she
Responded to us
Taking our misdirected food,
Our unguided love,
Our over-concern.
Wiser country folk would have avoided
All that hassle and consigned the tawny bundle
To her inevitable fate long before.
Us city folks have a lot to learn about
Leaving nature in its cruelty well alone.
Still, we learned to see a bit more of life
From a dying blinded kitten.
(I buried her in black soil among bushes
in Budokan Park. My mother always said there
was something hopelessly sad about a young
death. I certainly felt it then).