Cleo The Cat
Heart felt angst
Wells up inside,
Tightening
Its spring
Until it bursts
As hairball
Tumble,
Landing flat
Upon the twisted ire
Of a life long loss.
To voice a goodbye
Free falls away
Favouring fate
That follows
Endings of uncrossed paths.
This thought, again replayed –
Is layed out in full,
Brushed with care,
And cradled for a time.
Turned, and again checked for its emotional ID.
Unlike fe-lines
Our kind, cannot predict
The seasons as once we did.
Nor, pre-empt such unseen loss.
Not being there could not be helped.
Cleo waited as long as she could,
Hung her thanks
Upon the decades of love, woven right around the house,
And heeded the call of her origin –
Returning home, one last time.
What she would’ve liked,
Was for all to recall
That, were it not for this family
Of open hearts
And unchecked time,
Trust would not have transformed from bud to bloom –
And 26 years
Of connected
Sighs, laughs and affection felt,
Could not have come to pass.
This Schrödinger’s cat was truly alive –
Thanks to the few who stepped up to the task,
Peered into the box,
And on tip-toes, pulled her little self into their lives.
She was that lifetime plaque
Of reciprical commitments,
Often drapped around the necks of the Decent,
And there could be no regrets
About such an arrangement,
Now could there.
Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 2007