There is a black
Cat with no ears
That lives outside
Of my mother's
House
They say cold winter's
Subdues felines
Into losing their
Points as an
Evolutionary advantage
The cats of the Arctic
are like this
I give him tuna
And crab
And other leftovers
In a way he knows
It is from me
Before he would scamper
At the first sight
If my face,
Now he lingers around
As if to fill
Me in on what's new
Sometimes we sit
And stare at each
Other for hours
He hasn't
Let me pet him yet