(Poem 225 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

I’m afraid my cat
is unraveling
like an old sweater
with a snag.

If I pull too hard
on the loose thread
catching
on my ring
or hangnail,
who knows
how many carefully
knit rows will come
undone
and fall,
gravity removing all
trace of ever having been
a woven thing.

I don’t think he can
be put back together
again
if he falls
from his wall
and I don’t know
how to keep
him balanced
on the ledge
between
this reality
and the next.

@Home Studio – 225^th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Kage’s Unraveling photos to accompany my poem: