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?