Thursday, August 18, 2016

The Stranger

The Stranger
© Susan Noyes Anderson
I remember the cat in better days, strutting
smugly through the soft, gold carpet, master
of his own paw-printed hallways, a silky legacy
on each duvet. I was an observer then, amused,
detached. The house would soon be mine, the cat
a memory; belonging as he did to doting
––who loved, it seemed, as only those
whose animals become their children can.
It was a pretty lie; the cat stayed on,
left to the streets and framed in unlit windows.
The shadows own him now, protect him too;
coat him in dark disguises only soap and light
––oh yes––love could shed. He stalks his past,
slow-moving, locked in dreams; unwilling, still,
to call the night his home. Restless, relentless,
searching for his people. He stares into our eyes;
we do not know him. We do not take him in.
Assignment: Write a poem on the theme of  "cats."
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Jae Rose said...

Sometimes strangers are so familiar they become like friends - i think you have also summed up the nature of cats superbly..they definitely relate to people on their own terms..

Susan said...

Oh! A haunting poem! Maybe literally. I believed every word of your description, especially ". . . paw-printed hallways, a silky legacy
on each duvet. . . ."

Sumana Roy said...

what an intriguing write!....

Sherry Blue Sky said...

This breaks my heart. I will never understand how people can leave their pets behind. So sad, him searching for his people. Poor old cat.

Mary said...

As what Sherry said, this poem breaks my heart. I think it will break the heart of anyone who has a love of animals. So very sad. (But what a wonderful poem!)

Terra Hangen said...

Poor kitty with no one to love him. Nice poem though.

yaya said...

I was never a "cat person"...even after rescuing Squeak that ended up living with us for 14yrs, I still didn't consider myself a cat lover. But stay with us she did and last August when she died I cried. She wasn't a sit on your lap, cuddle with me cat. But that was OK because I wasn't a "cat person". She bit the Grandkiddos if they petted her. As she got older she was better with people and she always was a good mouser and chipmunk killer. But she was a cat who lived on her own terms, and we respected that. She would go in and out in the Summer, but hated winter and would stay indoors..especially that last really cold Winter. After she died I knew we wouldn't ever have another cat. We rescued a dog this time. But last week I saw a mouse in the house...hmmmmmm

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

A sad tale, and too often true.

kaykuala said...

unwilling, still, to call the night his home.
Restless, relentless,searching for his people.

When abandoned leaving them to their wits could be most trying for them. Perhaps there were reasons!


Gail said...

There is must sadness in this tale, much emotion. Maybe not just about a cat. Great creation.

LeAnn said...

This was an unusually interesting poem. You as always know how to weave a great tale. We do love our animals like children and I can't fathom leaving one behind. We had a cat named Freddy, a female one. She had many litters of kittens and then disappeared. She returned about a year later. We never knew what became of her during that year; very strange. Cats and Dogs have such interesting personalities and we do learn much from them. Thanks for this one! Hugs~

Nicholas V said...

How sad this was, Susan. Abandoned animals always strike a sympathetic chord with me and it's many a time I have taken them in to the animal shelter or rang the owners (if the animal has a tag on their collar). Beautifully written,

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