Want to read a poem about my cat and a sighting in a lonely car park?
And to hear about the gracefulness and love from an animal?
To study its nightly activities and longings?
And finally to learn that it came into my life and then left?
The Cat
It was without a doubt my cat,
There in the free car park,
When it looked me with its lyrical movie eyes,
It had neither lip nor urge to smile,
Only mottled ripples of soot on its sides,
Like the mud of boots trodden in front of farms,
Continuing now from its eager promises,
To do it in the way in which we would blush,
For the bird feathers in and around the ground,
A profound drizzle of Icarus wax and sweat,
And the longing for its food and bed,
Whilst among the rainy darkness this sombre one,
That covered me with decisive friendship,
Shows how kindness had me drunk,
By the gleaming peace and movement,
Of its unwilling chancing soul.
Ask me why this creature cat,
With its steady pulse knows death,
Its feline serenity slender and musical,
With the clear colour of the silken moon,
Where the night protects its warmth,
Perhaps now miracles become possible juices,
With the phenomenon of loneliness as a grace,
Living alone as the balanced one,
That covers my space with promising splendour,
Making my brain and shoulder turn once more,
Seeing a blacky blackness that loves to hide,
With its cleansed splendour giving me an ending,
And making me ask why doesn't its life poetry,
Blossom of fruit and trees and fair winds,
Or fill with the eager juices of its native land,
It was without a doubt all my cat.
7th January 2023
