When I go downstairs from my second
floor apartment to check my mail
sometimes I hear meow, meow, meow
meow, meow, meow, meow ….
I look down to my right and see
under the blinds and through
the panes in the glass door
a black cat calling me,
his paws stretching against the glass.
I smile and I say, “Hi kitty,” and
put my hands against the glass on
the other side, as if touching
his stretched out paws.
He only does this when his owner
is not at home. I think that black cat
is an extrovert who gets lonely
when he is all alone.
And I enjoy his once in awhile
greetings. They are serendipitous
to me.
Bob Boyd
Author: BobBoyd
Age 80. Cancer survivor since 3 years ago. Work out 3 times a week. Ride my exercise bike 2 hours a day. Live a solo reclusive life. Retired a year ago from working with the elderly in a nonprofit. Started writing poetry a little over a year ago; most poems I write are fictional but some are not. Spiritual with a permanent spiritual experience. Write poems on many subjects. Always researching for many of my poems and because of my unquenchable thirst for knowledge. After reading and hearing about many near death experiences and death bed visions, I believe death is the ultimate awakening and the relocation of a lifetime. You may believe differently, but you have the right to be wrong -- I'm just messing with you. :-)
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