She’s gone for good this time…..I think.
I’ve not seem her for seven days.
Wet food collects slugs in her bowl; three days
of rain evicting them from danky hidey-holes.
That is the only sign. We rarely spoke
……or acknowledged the other.
I did stoop to offer my hand, a back-arching lintel,
……….but not too often; no spoiling.
She was a true hunter; eating her kill
with no gloating, no display for display’s sake.
She preferred the wild-wide-world, at least,
that’s what I tell myself……as balm,
but I really can’t know cat thought,
or human thought for that matter.
Others I’ve left to wander? Too aloof,
too free with freedom, or has it
just been easier to let them roam
so blame can only know their names?
Belated Words 
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