Getting up early
Placing the chair where
I can witness for once (out of bed)
“The Arrival of the Ducks”
(followed by the pair of doves).
Scattering the cat biscuits
Far and wide like
I am sowing seed in the dawning light
When arrives Frodo the Cat
Who softly, with surprise, grazes.
Well done, Frodo my cat.
‘Frightened Frodie’, scaredy-cat,
Mister Frodo, beloved cat.
This morning I saw in our interaction,
you have achieved your mission;
from frightened Frodo
to Frodo the Super-chilled cat.
You were one of a litter of five,
where your four siblings were
put down by the SPCA
for being too feral, too feeble.
For your mother was a stray,
(and your father who-knows-who),
and you have found your way
and survived your frightening journey.
From ‘Frodo more-backward-than-
forward shy cat’; to approachable
and approaching Frodo with Mojo,
beloved and loving cat.
My cat scratches the carpet
Hooking his claws
And drawing himself along on his side.
The garden is so generous.
I want to decorate it with figurines and tiles
Like a child’s bedroom
To show it how grateful I am for its inhabitation.
Hasta la vista pasta!
I haven’t touched you for weeks
Today I filled the bowl
With half a dozen steamed vegetables
All different, each taste becoming the
Out til late at night
Or early in the morning
That paradoxical time
When some voice inside
Sensibly suggests it’s time
To go to bed.
But not before the drive
Back through empty streets
And back to the distinction
Of one’s own company
Such that it is hard to say
That it is mine.
Such that the day has been one
Of recovery and breakfast at midday
Reading on the couch glad
For the closeness of the cat.
The night so quick but the feet
Did walk in misty rain.
And the evening breathing
With the sound of crickets
Outside the whirr of the desk fan.
Roaming through the range
Of what I like and don’t like
By reading poetry.