I woke up holding you,

black kitten, and sitting up

I saw your wings take shape.

As always, before I could be

even close to ready for them.

 

Still, your gods wait for you,

want to learn from your life

here, with us if only briefly,

of time spent with a wanderer

and many others of your kind.

 

Tell them for us all, if you will,

that you were loved, cherished,

comforted, even if imperfectly,

by all of us when storms came,

when the moon and sun shone.

 

And say for me that, when they can,

please, I’d like to have you back.

(after the undated illustration, “Until We Meet Again,” by Naiko Stoop)