In the middle of
the street is everyone
you know. You
stand on the side-
walk though,
missing them.
They begin to
spread out
around the neighbor-
hood, looking for
the cat you lost
as a child. You
don’t remember its
name, but they
all seem to—
they’re all calling out:
Rain, Rain, don’t go
away—
you’re a cat and I
miss you and you’re
gone.
In the middle of the
street is the cat you
lost as a child. You
used to miss him—
but you don’t any-
more. It begins to rain
but the cat doesn’t
move, it just stares at
you, wide-eyed, as rain
washes the morning
dew from the back
of his ears.
You think of who
you were the day you
lost that cat. You
can remember how
your ears felt— all
burning and blood
but you cannot
remember the feeling
behind your heart
that day, anymore.
You speak to it—
You’re a cat,
and I miss you, and
you’re gone.
My heart
stands now in the
middle of the street.
It’s starting to rain
again. Behind its ears,
the morning dew.
Sometimes it is so
lonely, being with
what you thought
you’d forgotten.
I hear everyone I
know, hollering
in the distance.
My heart jumps
up and walks away.
