Windowsill Watch. A poem and pic by Kathryn Crowley

Eyelids lowered
He observes me with disdain
While I water all the seedlings
Dwarfed under sky
Thriving on the windowsill

“It’s fine for you
Obsessing over rocket
But what about some fish, you bitch?
Oh come on
Do you know how to share?”

I could be wrong
To judge his thoughts by his eyes
In this psychic conversation
There is no way to know for sure
We both glare through glass.

True kitty crime
What on earth were they thinking?
Three hands must have held him down
A fourth did the deed
As claws scratched at flesh.

Who cut his hair;
Does he live with crazy hosts?
Humans can’t really own a cat.
He’s shaved; it looks wrong
Maybe he got infested.

An old nickname
Is inappropriate now
The cat formerly known as Fluffy
His orange mane hacked
Seems extra pissed off.

Nocturnal one
He drops by after midday
And still I refuse to let him in
Our standoff continues
Divided by a windowsill.


Kathryn Crowley spent many years writing and making art about social issues. Her recent poems are inspired by every day things that make her smile. What a relief! To hear Kathryn read at open mics, check the blog section of her website for news.

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