he purrs
a rumbling restless sound
his long black fur dusted
by the sandy dirt under the house
a stranger to me
his quiet and aloofness
the traditional trademarks of a cat
rescued as wee kitten in the bowels
of the night
chased by demon dogs intent on a kill
his sits on my lap now
injured in an unknown way
by car, by dog, by human, by cat
who knows
he cannot say
I soothe him without words
and he finds peace on a human
who does not move
but there is much to do
and so our moment of connectedness
ends
and we go our separate ways
StoryGirl 