Backyard Cat

The orange and white striped cat
who uses our backyard for a passage
from one unknowable starting point
to an equally unfathomable destination,
strolling insouciant
has no concept of private property.
I don’t approach him,
he isn’t mine,
but I like
to glance out the window and see him there.

my pet not my pet
my cat not my cat
who is unaware of me
no acknowledgement
lackadaisical
nonchalant
disinterested
unimpressible
like something in a shop that pleases me
but not striped, orange and supple and
so alive
a blue Chinese vase
for example
cold and glossy
the vase doesn’t care about me
anymore than the cat
but it decorates
embellishes
enhances
adorns
I smile when I see it
I don’t need to dust it

Could I be obsessed with cats—
a cat fixation?
But the cat has no interest in me.

I think you are like the orange cat.
You stroll by in my life
my love not my love
like the cat through a backyard
nearly unaware of me watching
oblivious
unconscious
but there on the fringe
on the perimeter
nodding marginally
to me as I gaze fondly
out the window at you.