My best friend doesn’t talk very much,
He listens sometimes, nods his head and such.
He sleeps all day, loudly most times,
Unbothered by me or nickels or dimes.
He smells damp, his feet are warm
Circled next to my head when my mind is a swarm.
My best friend always knows what to say
If the piles of stones in my head start to weigh.
In that, he doesn’t talk, or even really touch,
He just listens sometimes, nods his head and such.
This poem is about my friendship with my cat.
