Whitby Writers Group

a self-help writers co-operative


Today your cat died and I grieved with you
with one of those unlooked-for gifts of chance
I found the journal entry that I made
when Percy died exactly four years back
I read again of how the vet had phoned
he’d rallied just as Sparky did perhaps
for one more look at earth and green and sun
but now was time to come and say goodbye
we stroked him gently while the drug slipped down
the saline drip he looked up once and then
was gone as light as autumn leaves we wrapped
him in his yellow blanket buried him
where birds would feed in safety once again
and vegetables would grow I felt him fit
as when a kitten in my palm and closed
my fingers soft around the space he held.


Jenny Hill

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