The outside cat
Has no time for us
Scorning the food
Put out for him,
In bowls with C.A.T.
Printed right around them.

This cat ignores
Each of his beds.
One in the greenhouse,
One in the shed,
Ready for him
To shelter in.

He’s done.
Spring’s come!

Parading down
The garden path,
With his rusty growl
Proclaiming he is no
Domestic cat,
But an Emperor.

We all ignore the fact
That he sleeps in the flower pot
When it suits him.

        ©2021 Gwen Grant.

9 thoughts on “ THE OUTSIDE CAT

  1. Glad you liked the poem. Our inside cat hates the outside one and they fight, so we have
    to keep a close eye on the garden!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. That is so difficult. Sometimes it all works out, though. The inside cat is 17 years old and
    is still fighting! Hope that mother cat relents and takes her son to heart.

    Liked by 1 person

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