Caspar


Snaking through the doorway.
Sneaking wetly up the stairs to bed,
Ignoring the cats cradle made
Exclusively, for it.
Standing like an emperor
On the roof. Surveying its territory.
Wanting in. Wanting out.
Refusing one day food it liked the last day.
Tearing curtains. Ripping chairs.
I could sometimes kill it – then it purrs.

© EGB October 1970

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