My cat claims his little spot of the bed,
Like a proud soldier defending his land,
Or a lonely woman holding onto faith,
Devoting himself to the moment at hand.
Yesterday, he preferred the back of the sofa,
While I brushed my mother's hair,
With his front paws crossed, tail curled,
He was content to rule his world from there.
His purrs and cries are conversation,
He is as comforting as a familiar song,
Inquisitive, relentless, instinctual,
A pleasure I denied myself for too long.
Salem ingratiated himself in my life,
He found me and claimed me as his own,
His place is more permanent than any possession,
Tufts of silken fur mark his choice of throne.
© Dianna Doles Petry