the things left behind [taken 18 April '06]
A year of days without you.
A year of nights without you.
No more cosy rainy afternoons.
No more cuddling reading and purring.
No more glares from a cold radiator.
No little fleece lying waiting only for you.
No need to leave the bedroom door open now.
No need for cat milk.
No lilac food plate in the kitchen.
No silver water bowl for madam.
No more litter to clean up,
(I never thought I'd miss that, but I do)
Less and less fur on my clothes.
A solitary claw sheath now and then.
No new rips in the wallpaper.
The sofa will stay half-shredded.
The bedpost will count no more scratches.
You didn't get time to claw this duvet cover.
No more stray catnip mice around this house.
No more flying leaps onto my head at night.
No more tripping me up in the doorways.
No more running to me when I whistle.
It's no fun singing 'Chitty Chitty Bang Bang'
without you here to stare in shock and disgust -
(and sometimes, I think, a little admiration)
I wonder if you miss the poetry readings too.
Sitting patiently while I read you
the entire book of T. S. Eliot cat poems.
Or do you stop by sometimes?
I think you do.
A year of days and nights without you.
No more "me&cat" - no more you.
There will be many years without you,
this was just the first.
The years without you will never
take away the years we had.
(thank you my little darling - sleep peacefully)
© Morney Wilson, April '06