Must Love CatsMust Love Cats5 years ago in Free Verse
Must Love Cats
Fur of gold to pet and rub,
Perfect cat for me to love,
Razor claws and pointed teeth,
All the better made to keep,
A quick brush along silky fur,
Rewarded with a rumbling purr,
Given a glancing nuzzled kiss,
He is mine and I am his.
Master of RavensMaster of RavensMaster of Ravens10 years ago in Fantasy
My little brother is nine years old the first time I decide to kill him.
During the night, snow fell over the jagged wreckage of our land. In the morning I realize he will follow me outside if I call to him. Like an awkward-limbed colt he'll stumble through the snowdrifts, and I can leave him to the ice and wind in the shadow of a three-walled building. No one will see me. Our father will think he has gotten lost on his own. I too will cry when they find his body. When the mourning is done, however, I will be my father's true and only son. 'Cam,' he will call to me, and I'll kneel down before him.
My father. Master of Ravens. Crow-Runner. The Blackbird King.
I pull on my winter boots, knot the coarse laces.
My little brother asks, 'Cam. Where are you going?'
'Out,' I tell him.
'To play in the snow?'
'To look at it.'
When he was born, my little brother was named Taliesin. His is a world without myths, of course. Such things perished in the great f