I turn the porch light on at 4 a.m.
to see if a miracle’s occurred
and the paper’s landed somewhere
in the snow blanketing our lawn.
Instead I see a clump on the mat
a one-eyed cat dazed by the cold
looking at me as if to say
“Are you the guy I saw
a week ago before I ran?”
Every morning now I feed
two feral toms at our back door
but never a cat at our front door.
My wife might say okay
once she knows this cat’s
a lady in big trouble.
When I open the door
the cat runs across the street
turns around, sits on the curb
looks at me and says, “Listen, Mister,
I’m cold and hungry but we just met.
One quick peek is all you get.”