The Cat is in for the Night
The cat cries out as he wanders
through my bedroom. He can’t
understand why he can’t go out
for another time—I can’t explain.
He goes into the kitchen and looks
up to people in conversation standing
at a countertop. We’ve filled his
food and water dished. He cries out,
I don’t understand.
He comes to me
and I scratch his neck while flipping
through You Tube videos. The next
moment he jumps onto a tote and cleans
himself. Someone online asks for a poem
about cats
[I look to him]
Two years ago
someone brought him in a cage
[He looked at me, I looked at him]
Oh no, I said.
I never knew I was a cat person
but he chose me.
As he cries to go out, I say to him
why don’t you keep me company
as if he’s a child, and maybe in some way
he is. I interrupt what I’m doing
to clean his litter
a duty to dread and embrace.
I sit down to read and ease the night
[and he finds my lap]
I feel his warmth.
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