The last I saw of you
You were chasing flies beside the blackberry bush.
Then, in the flash of a tail
You were patrolling the neighbouring fence opposite.
I was mentally extolling the virtues of cat speed and agility,
Watching your progress towards the fox-hole in the back flower bed,
Remembering how you used to slip through this same slatted fence
Avoiding unnecessary circum-perambulation.
I considered again your widening girth
And the possible purchase of satiety food
When I spotted you, still chasing flies beside the blackberry bush.
Double take. Not you.
Your mirror image. And given the uncertainty
Of your origins, possibly
Your Ma or Da, big brother or sister.
In a leap you squared up to each other, black tails flag-bearing.
You on the lower ground, your blue neck ribbon attesting
Your advantage in this terrain.
But when your mirror image sprang
You retreated with a yelp in your step
Towards me, and the open back porch door.