Saturday, July 2, 2011

Jean Cocteau | Cat

By the fire, like drifting reddish goldfish,
the cat dozed, within itself.
If, by mischance, I were to stir,
the cat might change to something else.

The spinning-wheel of ancient magic
must never be allowed to stick:
and changing itself into a princess
is, for the cat, a minor trick.

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