Poem 489

Through encompassing the lifespan of our pets we encounter our own aging and mortality … title is drawn from Shakespeare – ‘we are such stuff as dreams are made on and our little life is rounded by a sleep’ …

Our Little Life

The cat is old
that you remember falling down the steps
as a kitten

would rather sleep now
than play
                  sulks when children come
and relies on you
to frighten the ginger toms

you have written down the vet's number
even if just for pulling jellimeat teeth
and the front doormat no longer breeds
tails and sparrows feet

the old lady pulls her fur around her
and hurries over the dark street
you hear her voice under the lighted window