Saturday, November 23, 2013


for Richard, my beloved campanion animal
I spy your yellow eyes
running like a miniature puma across our porch
in the cold sunlight of a November New England winter.

My assistant is too slow
to stop your feline feet
from running away again.

I place a bowl of your food
outside, turning on an extra indoor light
so your catty sneakiness doesn’t
sneak past me.

But once again,
you eat, run,  escape assistant.

I sigh,
thinking I’m destined to spend
another night with you out of doors.

Less than an hour later,
you appear at slider
and respond to calls
of  “Come in.”

I think you smelled the first snow
coming on the air
and opted for safety of temperature controlled house.

But I am too overjoyed
at your return
to feel slighted.

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