This cat slinks, creeps
into rooms, the ruins
of many a holiday
in soft golden light.
Mottled, she mews,
back arched clown,
perhaps of self
catalytic origin.
She’s fleecy, wooly
tufted, easily shocked,
as if any thought
is a threat
to one’s peace
full sleeper day,
like a vacuum
or a house rejigged.