A/N: And this is the last of the poems. Enjoy. :D
SHAPESHIFTE_
Reminiscing on the past
she couldn't remember what her face
had said before
Because this was all she knew:
a cat behind the eyes of a human
crafted by the passing age.
Oh, she had her photos
to tell the tales of old…
but the faces
that they showed…
They were other people
from a time long gone;
the emotions, the moments
she recalled
but that face was a different one.
Maybe this is what they meant
by being reborn with age;
that woman with a smooth face
was a stranger, and the other –
with wrinkles where whiskers could sprout –
was her.