Louis was my first cat,
i’ve had him since five,
little tiger hunting butterflies and grasshoppers,
blue-eyed and gray fur and a friendly mood most of the time,
or so it’s said to mean holding the tail up,
he loved to sleep beside me and to purr.
for thirteen years we had done
uncounted expeditions,
first to the garden, down the street,
the candy store, Miss Hamilton’s great garden
with flowers and bowls of milk and cherries
and prunes and old dog Henry,
then further on, the forest on the hills,
the green park at the margin of the town.
we were inseparable for long years,
until one day, i was in town to meet a friend,
at home, my other friend
closed his blue eyes forever.
the sky was cloudy. it rained.
as i was smiling, without clue – it’s as they say -
for the loss of a friend
you lose something and gain something else
instead.
.
(by me)
