Encounter

They met at the back door

He was going out

She was coming in

Bemused, enchanted

They stood face to face

Eye to eye

She was charmed by

His long fluttering eyelashes

Then she took a peck

We rushed to sweep him up

Before she reached his eye

Only eight months old

Though already walking

Without boots

Who was he to stand

Between a chook and her beloved

Cat food? 

12 May 2018

Virginia Lowe