Wednesday, April 27, 2011

The cat on the doorstep

The cat on the doorstep

Pink Floyd is back,
taken up residence on our mat,
can’t go out, can’t come in,
without a tangle of paws and tails:
of the ones inside trying to get out
and the one outside trying to get in.

I can’t take a picture of Floyd on the mat,
if I am out, he is around my ankles,
calling and purring; 
he comes for walks in the evening and the morning,
my feline escort.

He lives on the mat otherwise.



Elisabeth said...

Cats are such strange creatures, at least ours are. aloof one minute and the next desperate for our company and affection. The dog is transparent, but the cats are inconsistent. Is that what endears me to them, like your Pink Floyd?

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Oh, this is a sweet poem. I once had a homeless cat decide to live with me when I lived behind a bookstore. When I moved several miles away, I took him with me. But he declined to move, and kept going back to the bookstore till the proprietor took him in to be the bookstore cat. Cats know what they want:)

Isabel Doyle said...

Pink Floyd's story (in the extended edition) can be found at Living in Exile, under 'The Private Face'

rallentanda said...

Ginger cats are my favourites. My two are called the Marmalade Boys.

Poets United said...

Cool cat:)

lucychili said...

a home on the edge of a home
he sounds sweet

Dave King said...

Gorgeous poem, a real triumph.

M. A. S. said...

I'm a bit fond of friendly stray cats.

Emily Young said...

He's adorable!