I searched through empty rooms
hearing always the purr
though I found nothing but empty space,
little lost lumps of fluff and fur,
so I stopped and stayed within the gloom.
I looked around at forgotten art
seeing always a smiling face
and seeing there a steady hand,
each line lining an accurate trace,
joy returned to my heavy heart.
But now the child’s drawing must do
in place of masterpieces of old
as my searching mind grows slow
and the warmth within me grows cold
to remind me of the lost cat I once knew.