Last month, I attended Poets at Play for the first time at the Markham House in History Park, San Jose. It was nice to meet a small group of poets and spend a nice afternoon writing and discussing poetry. The theme for the month was “memory.” I was able to write two poems that afternoon and I will share one with you today, the one I didn’t read out loud. A poet suggested writing memory from someone else’s perspective, so I decided to write this. I hope you enjoy it.
The Encounter
Coming out of the trashcan,
I felt my fur on end…
a pair of eyes watching me.
She was there, the human,
looking at me, watching…
my every move.
I jumped back in,
I jumped back out.
I poked my head
around.
She was still there
watching me.
I scurried down the trashcan.
I scurried up a tree,
found a little nook
that was comforting to me.
I lost sight of her.
She lost sight of me,
or so I thought,
until I felt her eyes
once again, watching me.
I pretended not to see.
She pretended to let me be,
walking away,
so I could enjoy my day.
Maybe a squirrel and a girl
could be friends.