Not fate, just cats

A twitter poem that went down a side stream.


Not fate,

not chance,

not wheeling stars in parabolas,

not black cats crossed or not,

made you leave,

just the shop glitter

of plastic grass

on the other side.


Cat sits

flits bat

cat knows

snows come

some stays

days and days.


Stars in eyes,

winter in thickening fur,

our fate pad padding in his step,

he watches you pass by

and in a blink is gone,

to hunt another heart.