Five siblings inherit a blanket. They lie beneath it, together, to stay warm.
          But arms and legs stick out and the siblings squabble and tug. They do
          not realize that they would all fit if they just moved closer together.

This is the Blanket Story. Poets, artists, and musicians have responded to this tale in creative ways. All poems appear here, our ONLINE POETRY SHOWCASE. Visit our main page to find out more about the project.

Alice Lacey

Familiar

A black
cat
a witch’s
familiar
curls on a sky-blue
blanket

Eyes open, unblinking
she soars to the black
a blur
while curled at the base of the scratching
post, still in her familiar
place which

she'd never choose to switch
nor wish for the comfort of another blanket
(the best’s what’s most familiar)
even if it’s blackened
in spots
It’s no catastrophe
when these threads come loose

Stealing from Stevens’s “Blue,” so that’s loss
then: things as they are? Despite our wishes
there’s always some cataclysm
that blankets
in bleakness
We can’t preserve our families

indefinitely, or even 15 minutes of fame
Beauty fades to black
Wit
lets
loose, catapults

and scatters
It’s all as familiar
as the blink
of an eye, knowing we will lose
everything, yet wisdom
a milkweed gone to seed, beams, a beacon

 Death slinks in, a black cat
stealthy with familiarity
that old ice-blue comforter, blankets the desire of the sky