09/13/2026
Funny Whiskers
Looking at my Cat
Thinking about his funny whiskers
The long wiggly ones coming from his muzzle
The sparse ones I think of as his eyebrows
The silly ones coming from his ankles
I keep finding them in the carpet
A carpet I refuse to vacuum
Because if I do those pieces of him are lost
And I have lost enough of him
Looking at my Cat
In the picture frame
On the small wooden box sitting on the piano
Thinking how I miss those funny whiskers
Which I collect in a jar
But, Oh, how I miss them
Twitching on his face
A poem by Eryn Mann (me)
I haven't written anything even loosely resembling a poem probably since high school so I apologize it comes off sort of awkward or stilted. But it just sort of came into my head as I was crying in the shower this morning after finally putting a picture into that picture frame. It's been about a month and a half since Melanthios passed away but grief is a long road and he was such a special cat. The absolute sweetest boy on the planet. He is so very loved and so very missed. I am so grateful for those small moments when I find a whisker in the carpet or a strand of fur finds its way onto my clothes or in my path of vision. It's like he's telling me he's still there watching over me.
