I Took A Chair And Threw It…
I took a chair and threw it Across my unmade bed When I returned one evening, To find my old cat dead. Yet when an ailing neighbour Passed on — no missiles flew. The ties that bind are stronger Than what we tie them to.
Stalin was my tomcat who died over thirty years ago due my stupidity and ignorance of feline symptoms. (Grit from dry cat food builds up in their urinary tract — easy to spot if you catch them lurking by kitchen sinks or constantly thirsty). The neighbour was my lovely landlady, in her late 80’s, who lived downstairs. She had accurately predicted the month of her passing. When I found her, lying peacefully in her own bed, I discovered she had carefully laid out the following items: money to pay local tradesmen, a note telling me who to call, instructions regarding her aged and nearly bald budgerigar and a suit of her best clothes to be buried in. The budgie, for which she had knitted a woollen vest through which his featherless wings poked, was buried with her.
Poem Published in the following books: Lone Wolf