Poem About Julius
Orange like the sun with
yummy white throat and breast and paws,
he nuzzles nose beneath my curled hand:
Scratch my nose, please. and my forehead
while you’re at it.
We feel his body rise and fall as
my abdomen breathes in and out.
I see his little ears turn toward my useless hand
that stopped caressing:
Please don’t stop he
begs sans words.
Small and big against myself, but
warm, warm, warm.
Julius no longer kneads my body before
settling down. J. can hardly walk a line these days.
At 84 in human years
my beloved, beloved friend is nearing
transition into spirit,
back from where we came like
spring flowers jumping up
He’ll go first. and then this
warm and loving weight here on my lap will not come round
begging for a hug,
saying with his telepathic brainstop
your work so we can feel togetherness.
Then my arms and lap will all be empty,
a drifting boat.
And here am I with tears though
he’s present with me now,
my brain in both the now and then at once.
Perhaps his only feels today.
I wouldn’t guess the amazing consciousness of cats.
Is he even now with Tom in spirit? In both worlds at once?
Julius, the last physical remnant of my son.
Don’t go! oh please, don’t go….