Saturday, September 6, 2014

The Saturday After Midnight

You could never tell where the kitten
would be sittin’.
He had so many places he liked to hide.

In the summer it was the porch
lying in the shade.
In the winter he found shelter inside.

In the garage there was a heating pad and chair.
And on summer stormy nights
there was a Christmas tree in there,
and he took special comfort from the lights.

We ran them anytime,
when the wind began to whine
or thunder cracked.

And it worked in winter, too,
making him feel that he was warmer than he was.
He loved that tree.

And the shadow from the lights grew longer
as the kittens time grew shorter;
‘til there was an empty place on my porch.

In my garage, the Christmas tree is gone;
the lights only lit the empty spaces in the night.

For Midnight - He was a great cat.
2011-2014 

Second Version

You could never tell
where the kitten would be sittin’.
He had so many places he liked to hide.

In the summer it was the porch
lying in the shade.
In the winter he found shelter on the inside.

In the garage there was a heating pad
and where on certain summer stormy nights,
with the tree ablaze, he would sit and stare,
taking special comfort from the lights.

We ran them anytime, when the wind began to whine
or thunder cracked, and the wind would moan.
And it worked in winter, too, made him feel warmer than he was.
He loved that tree and didn't feel so alone.

But the shadows from the lights grew longer
as the kittens time grew shorter;
‘til there was an empty place on my porch and in my heart.

In my garage, the Christmas tree is gone;
now that his time is done,
they only lit the empty spaces in the night.

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