I didn’t get her name.
It was a hot and wet Saturday night;
So I left the screen door wide open
Hoping for some kind of change in the weather.
She strolled in like the queen of Sheba riding the night’s breeze,

Her inspection was clearly on schedule.
She let me imagine that it was my company that she was after.
By earnestly engaging my eyes with her face
Which she put close to mine and stared into my eyes
As if she were the last soul left on earth who still loved me.
 
All the while she scanned the kitchen floor 
Out of the corner of her sharp feline eye,
Having assessed my modest, meagre means
She walks straight back out the door she had walked in.
Leaving me  staring at the empty space she had deliberately left behind.