On the welsh roadsides
windblown feathers of pheasants
mown down by traffic
Hunters robbed of their victims
Neighbours cat is thin, gaunt in fact.
He moves stiffly through his silent world
intent on getting to his next comfortable spot
wearing a ‘Please don’t feed me’ collar
to deter philanthropists, like me
who are tempted to overlook his kidney problems.
I dread that approaching day
when he is taken for the final
Please Fate, let him have at least
this one last, contented summer
a fine feline in the warm sun