after the rain I stepped out
for a walk on a quiet night
a gray cat called out and I turned
as she rushed forward from shadows
beneath the street library shelter
cats like books, I think
especially piles of them in corners
or open on your lap as you read aloud
my boots were muddy and wet
the cat wound herself round and round
my legs meowing with yearning
her coat was warm and slick
I spoke with her in low whispers
then curiosity distracted me
I paused cat stroking to straighten
open the door for a brief look
at the four rows of new and old books
while the cat mewed and slipped away again
I will not linger nor will I regret and yet
as I walked on my thoughts wandered
and I do admit
not one book spine in that wee library
gifted me anything like connection
like the trust of the small cat wet and crying
on a quiet night after the rainšŖ¶
