While We’re Away

The postmaster paused
for less than five seconds
before she blinked her big grey-blue eyes
behind her glasses and said,
‘No, no, don’t worry about forms,
I’ll tell the staff they can collect your mail.
They adopted our cat.’

Leo, or Leonardo de Catprio, by his long name,
so handsome, so calm, so silvery grey
a legendary mouser, that big bruiser
and a soft warm form so cozy on the bed
where, sadly, her young son’s allergies flared

I told her how my husband
had spotted Leo
early one morning down the alley
on the prowl
in and out of two ancient sheds
And how I’d once heard him being called
at midnight, a loving plaintive call
Leee-oooo…Leee-oooo…

We extol his virtues
And the kindness of such good neighbours
Who keep a watchful eye on our place while we’re away
And who will pick up our mail
No questions asked
No federal forms or signatures required
In this village where our postmaster
knows all our names, and likely our virtues and vices
And those of our cats and dogs too.