House of the Tomato

If a woman wants to be a poet, she must dwell in the house of the tomato. -- Erica Jong

Regional website for the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets, in partnership with the Reader's Loft.


Celebrating, sharing and inspiring poetry throughout Wisconsin.

The Wish

Tori— I’m trying to write something new for Ariel. (less than 30 lines. Theme of Intersection of nature and people). I’ve also been trying to write about this experience for decades. I don’t like the ending— “so what”—needs something stronger—I’m still thinking about it. Your thoughts?

The Wish

The breeze spun a pile of leaves
uncovering a puff of black fur
with a mew so weak it was
nearly sucked back into the breath of wind.
Dad gently lifted up a tiny kitten
with yellow marble eyes,
light as a songbird.
He pocketed the hungry kitten
in his hunting vest as dog Midge dashed in
a with partridge in her mouth.
That summer when I was eight,
I tossed wishing well coins for a black cat.

Dad took the black kitten out of his pocket
placed her on the kitchen floor
where she laid into a saucer of milk.
I called her Inky, a child’s thought-up name.
Rescued by chance, Inky took possession of our family.
She curled up on my bed in the sun,
endured being dressed in doll clothes,
pushed in a buggy, or tucked in my doll crib.
She loved my older brother’s quiet lap
as they dozed in a chair, too tired to go to bed.
Beloved Inky lived nineteen years
before she returned to the woods
under a tree in the backyard.



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