in the face of a daffodil

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

Remaining in her kneeling crouch, the youth’s smile turned more genuine; less of a somber affair, and more of a delicate, gentle balance. The cat’s response might have embellished the grin, the small shake of her head, the code of agreement between a balancing of boundaries. No. You shouldn’t have to apologize for any of that. Felines were known for their own terms – much like some people. And perhaps more of the latter should have anointed their own limitations. Maybe the world would’ve been better off. Your kind has always been very clear on their terms. Something the Caretaker could respect – with any and every animal that made its way into the Celestine.

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all