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Monday, 29 April 2024

The cat misses you.

She keeps staring

at the front door and yowling.


I catch her curled up

on your side of the bed.


She doesn’t settle on my chest

the way she does on yours.


She stands on my lap, not quite

looking me in the eyes.


The curtains have been ripped to shreds.

She paces round in the nights,


from room to room, looking for you.

Her feline instincts sense


that something is amiss.

I try to pick her up.


She gives me a hiss.


Joshua Seigal