The poem that started it all.
My very first poem in sixth grade.
We Met
We met beside the telephone pole.
Somewhere along the line.
I looked into his eyes and smiled
And he looked into mine.
I touched his hair with my hand.
He made a soft sweet sound.
I will tell you, tell you all I can.
It felt like soft, sweet down.
I whispered in his ear a wish,
“I would like to take you home.”
He gave my cheek a tiny lick
And purred a fuzzy groan.
But all good things must come to an end.
The way they always do.
I put the little gray kitten down
And went on my way to school.
SK VIRTUE
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