Next Doors Cat
Poem By Wojja Fink
Charlie, next doors cat died in our back garden
I found him under the camellia, still warm.
I covered him with a green cloth to keep away the flies
no more would he climb the old apple tree
dance after butterflies or get stung by a bee
no more will he slumber curled up on a chair
but I still look at shadows and think it’s him still there
the colour of digestives with gold amber eyes
his so soft fur twas always a surprise
he would eat almost anything and loved tiramazu
when you opened a trifle he would stare at you
I waited for the neighbors to arrive home
come 11 still no sign
holiday I thought, they’re away in Spain.
and Carole won’t want him in the freezer,
then Jane appeared
she was expecting it; the vet had said he hasn’t long,
but the tears still arose
I offered to bury him when she said mum n dad are in Spain.
The next day
I carried him for the last time
unmoving in my arms
Into the garden he had forsaken for ours
beneath the green cloth
unsure of the neighbor’s reaction
after all they did exchange £200 pound for him
a bundle of unwrapped kitten ness
that mostly unfolded
on our side of the fence
in our house
over the 12 or so years
He didn’t like grandchildren
or parties or loud music
he liked it quiet
and went home when tired of us.
I asked Jane if she would like him buried,
standing up or lying down;
she laughed out loud,
much to my relief
and said lying down
then spoke to me like a long lost brother,
between pauses and puffs on her B & H’s.
I buried him about 2 feet deep,
and dug some fresh lavender
Into the soil, to try and outwit the foxes nose.
her dad Rick thanked me when they arrived home
a week later he told me a fox had dug him up.
Rick never knocked to ask for Charlie back
he left it to the women
good bloke that he is.
I never looked twice at cats,
till Charlie appeared.
From Meow poetry.2009