there is a world
out there
beyond the window screen
and as he feels
the breeze brush his face
on this mild winter day
he wonders
what would life be like
outside the safety
of this house
and the cat
looks back
at me
as if I had
all the answers
to all the questions
in both of our heads
cats
life here, a thousand years from Li Ch’ing-chao’s end of spring
winter approaches
and the feral cats
squabble over the carrier
left out for shelter
from the storms
and my cat
knows no sympathy
as he listens
comfortably reclining
on the bed
other plans
light filters in
this new morning
after wind after rain
the night before
I put aside the book
I was reading
and try to rise
but the cat
firmly anchored
in my lap
refuses to let me go
ah life
like this cat
has other plans
for me
too
across the floor
the cat
chases a ball
across the floor
the bell tinkles
he rushes forth
oh how easy
to chase a ball
across the floor
3am in the morning
the distance perhaps
in miles in years
cause these memories
both real and imagined
to co-mingle
restlessly
in the mind
yet the cat
gently calmly anchoring
an arm a heart
in the present
in this ancient city
both now call
home
what cats, and dogs, too, for that matter, know
the cat knows
movement is afoot
and trails me
from room to room
hugging tight
to my arm
as if to say
not without me
oh no old pal
surely not without you
this afternoon in Aliağa in January
on my balcony
I rest to listen
to the call to prayer
as the cat sleeps
on my lap
and my glass sits
half empty
on the table
in front of me
a crow perches
on the railing
we eye each other
tentatively
this afternoon
in Aliağa
in January
these times
these times
all you have
is the cat
and though
quite possibly
you wanted
more
at least
you don’t have
less
on dogs and cats
my dog
would have willingly
followed me
into hell
my cat
would prefer waiting
to see
if I return
here he comes
here he comes
the cat
slinking up the stairs
to hop on the bed
where he clearly feels
he belongs
Leonard Durso 