On the death of a beloved pet

 

No Way Around but Through

I walked around the park for two decades 

before you came along

showing me a more inward trail.

The copse where the wren mostly prevail,

the spot most likely to pipe with song thrush,

the trees whose boles cupped water for you to sup,

the ridge across the pitch that afforded a dry foot crossing.

You always did a twirl around the goal posts

where we always turned for home.

Your tail sweep-swinging, your stride high-stepping,

sure-footed now on the return leg.

I tried to walk around the park today.

But it's too late for that now.

And so, I let the tears fall

retrace, retrieve and recall

you in your heyday leaping

and in your latter day stumbling

but always bringing me into

the heart of the matter.

                                                                  MOLLY -2012-2026

Copyright 2026 Cathy Leonard

The High Jump

When he appeared beside me,

apparently out of thin air,

skimming across the surface 

as if landing on the moon-

a graceful glide, kicking up no star dust,

I had to concede how superior to us

these creatures are. 

No need for a Fosbury flop or Eastern cut off or scissors

as he rises to a height ten times his own.

Just a feet first straight on approach,

assessing his task from the floor pad with a slight tilt of  his ears

and then a back leg spring that catapults him into mid air-

rather like a rocket launch than a high jump...

Our cat jumping onto the kitchen table

Copyright 2026 Cathy Leonard

HISTORY OF THE HIGH JUMP