Slipping through bushes,
tiptoeing along the fence,
sneaking in the back door
to wolf down the leftovers.
‘we’ll never have a pet,’
he leaves out a bowl of milk
‘they kill off native wildlife,’
he opens a tin of tuna,
‘they’re not pets I just feed them,’
he holds out a hand, they sniff
coaxes them close with food, to stroke,
fierce stray tabby cat
and three ginger kittens
invaded the garden
who knows where it will end.
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