My cat is a question mark.
She peers at the world through the window, wondering.
When she wanders into her wonders, she poses queries at the birds she hunts.
Returning, she asks for praise, food, a lap. When these are met, she sleeps and seems as if she is all questions answered, curled into contentment, until she awakes, stretches, finds a seat on my desk in her question mark pose. What if? She asks, as if knowing I wonder, too.
We seek the answers together. I, with words. She, with sharp claws.
At day’s end, we dream of more questions.
––––––––––
“I write because I have questions. I write because the words are there, bone deep. I write for those who take refuge in books, as I have many times in my life. I write because I am a writer.” – the writer
thedrabble.wordpress.com 
Another Pangur Ban!
LikeLike