Tuesday, December 2, 2014

The Old Tom
















Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser


Nine years ago, a large-pawed tom sung his way into my
small cabin.  He’s not happy. At sunset he has been taking
to the window sill, waiting among the orchids. I watch. And,
I wait too, but not so earnestly. Eventually, I get distracted
by something else, a chore most likely, and that’s when it
begins: the growling, the arched posturing against the pane
that I should get around to cleaning sometime soon. “He’s
out there!” he says. “Another one!” And, I turn on the porch
light and confirm, “You are correct.” A lean brown tabby streaks
into the darkness. And, then I say, “Be nice. Don’t you remember
when you were scared and hungry and alone? It was not so long
ago.” And, he looks into me with sharp golden eyes, locked.
Annoyed, I think.  “I’m getting old,” he replies. “Our time
together is short. I will not share you.” And, to make his stance
clear, he turns and marks the front door, the threshold of our
shared life, our cozy home. Suddenly, I’m back in high school
Humanities class, studying mythology. Sooner or later, I recall,
the gods always get jealous.


© 2014-2015/Jamie K. Reaser
From "Coming Home: Learning to Actively Love this World"
To be published by Talking Waters Press in late 2015

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