When my new husband and I moved from L.A. to the redwoods of northern California, a feral cat appeared from the forest and after a week or so of hide-and-go-seek games, deigned to move in with us.  A month or so later, she had three kittens—like their mother, all grey Burmese with chartreuse eyes, but each with a differently-shaped tail.  The mother’s was curved at the end with a dip to the right. One of the female kittens had a similar dip, but to the left.  The other female had a zigzag tale. The sole male, Bearcat, was the only one with a perfect tale—unbent, long and expressive.  He was also the biggest,  the most talkative and the only one to survive for fifteen years—long enough to move with me to Mexico.

Bearcat
1987-2002
R.I.P.

back-lofter
tail-wafter
gray-bearer
drape-tearer
ball-loser
lap-chooser
bunny-slayer
shoelace-player
sofa-climber
sleep-mimer
shadow-springer
dragonfly-bringer
lizard de-tailer
spider-nailer
basement-searcher
window-ledge percher
tree-dweller
mouse-smeller
dog-chaser
bug-caser
door crack-peeper
sunbeam-sleeper
woods-walker
squirrel-stalker
rail-balancer
prey-glancer
shadow-catcher
love-hatcher
body-spinner
heart-winner

NaPoWriMo prompt: Kennings were riddle-like metaphors use in Norse Sagas. Basically, they are ways of calling something not by its actual name, but by a sort of clever, off-kilter description — for example, the sea would be called the “whale road.” Today, I challenge you to think of a single thing or person (a house, your grandmother, etc), and then write a poem that consists of kenning-like descriptions of that thing or person.

Here is an earlier poem written to this same prompt:
 https://judydykstrabrown.com/2014/04/13/napowrimo-day-13-wish-wagon/

http://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-3/——