PETRARCH'S CAT
After the Latin
inscription beneath the mummified feline purporting to be the poet’s pet at the
Casa Petrarcha in Arquà Petrarca, Padua.
Petrarch that
Etruscan poet bore
a double flame of
love within his breast:
Laura was the lesser;
I the best.
Why do you laugh?
Although it’s true she wore
a form divine, yet
I was to the fore
more faithful.
While her inspiration blessed
his holy books of
verse, I kept the pest
that would devour
them from my master’s door.
These centuries
past I stand here guarding still,
a dusty prop for
tourists. I suffice,
even in death, my
ready teeth and claws
to guard his words
eternal from the mice
and rats for all posterity,
my will
fierce yet to give
the nibbling critics pause.
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