He comes galloping to a stop.
Just three feet in front of me,
wanting me to prove that I am,
in fact, loyal as ever. So of course
I pick him up, soft fur clinging
to my jacket from the static of
leather seats.
They were a packaged set. Car
and cat. The day I first parked
the cobalt and baby blue beauty,
he was huddled on my stoop, rain
soaking matted fur to the bone.
Sometimes you just can’t turn down
what Fate has in store for you.
And now, years later, he’s proud.
Long tail fanning in the spring
morning, eyes narrowed tracking
something too small for me to see.
So, I wipe my forehead with my
sleeve and continue rubbing the
wax in. I wonder if he listens for the
purr of the engine, or watches for
the blue that stands out within
his world of grey.