Sanctuary

Dear uncle sold her into the purest kind of slavery.
Hood-eyed little middlemen profited from damaged goods
Along the way.
Good angels brought her back to a last nepal summer.
Debased, hollow -faced, a smile might become her.
Now she's cosied up, cosied up and comforted
In the warm flush of september.
Gone before winter.
Wondering as to might-have-beens.
Somebody's daughter in sanctuary, waiting.
Seen through softer cage of kindness, far and further still away,
From time-warp victorian zoos
Where staring ice cream gameboys play.
Big paws , worn claws and swishing tails.
More damaged goods in the market sales.
Too proud for anger, too late for hate: resigned in dignity.
Gone before winter.
Purring might-have- beens.
Somebody's kitten in sanctuary, waiting.
Somebody near you in sanctuary, waiting.