when we brought you home you were young
and angry—born
cage fighter, you wrestled house plants, sunk
teeth into everything. today you sprawl on the porch,
complaining about the weather.

in cat years your first hours
are days. i wonder then when you
surpassed me, how fresh from the womb
when you tumbled, sleepless and blue
-eyed, into your dour

wisdom. whether
the rumors are true, and you
really do live more
than once.