Thomas

Terror of the neighbourhood
father of many
bearer of wounds
Sixth member of the family

A small black kitten
in the summer of '73
nicked a chicken leg
off the Xmas dinner

Ate what we ate
Slept where we slept
Returned the favour
which jumped for joy in multiples

A meow at night
jumping in through the window
A black shadow
on the bed

The females loved him
One litter
came to visit him
in the garden

Where's Thomas?
Use your nose
He has a wound
and it doesn't smell of roses

One spring he dwindled
from a muscular tom
to almost a kitten
within the space of a week

That Sunday morn
a call behind the curtain
"I'm still here"
but darkness soon came

The light of the Rainbow Bridge
shone under the piano
and he stretched to reach it
that evening, late in May '88