Stray cats dreaming of leftover nibbles
gather when I feed the cats I call my pets.
Wistfully they look at the chewing jaws
that would pick clean the fish from rice
and maybe leave at most a half morsel.
The tomcat I wrote about some while ago
has not since been seen
breathing only as a lingering ache uncomfortably undefined.
But I know from the crop of the present visitors
some I would sniff in the next mango laden summer
with opaque diamonds in my eyes.
hellopoetry.com/poem/1125838/tomcat/