the ebb and the flow

My aunts' cat died. She was a feral cat they had adopted and was a pretttty cat. a loner, but not skittish. Being in a poetry zone of late, I sat down to write a haiku for her & them.

The hangup persisted. I couldn't write while planning to write. That's one of the reasons I like online journals. I open a post, spit something out and I'm done. 'Good' isn't the point, getting something out, expressing something is. I may come back, like I did with ٲلمغرب and rewrite into something that is, relatively, subjectively, good. And that's all I need!

Anyway, what I wanted to say didn't fit cleanly into the haiku I was trying to write. I gave up and lit upon the idea of a cinquain. Very similar to haiku in ideas of syllabic constraint (though I don't adhere to that in writing haiku) and brevity, there are rules and you follow them. And if you don't, who cares, but still. It's nice to have a boundary sometime, right?

Here then, is my second ever cinquain. For the record, it just sort of flowed out. I like that.

{Izzy}

Feral
Our own wild fur
Free to follow the wind
You won’t leave us, you will remain
Untamed.