As I wandered home contentedly
Sometime between two and three a.m.,
Your sweet white face surrounded by grey
peered tentatively out at me
from between cars parked on the street.
I was amused by your furtive glance
that reflected the glow of a solitary streetlight,
Curious at your cautious flight to hide from my gaze,
Worried that you might choose
to seek some fatal warmth atop an engine block.
In the harsh sun and cutting cold
of that early October morning
not five hours later
as I set out to start my day again
I found your body on the boulevard
curled, lifeless and grey,
punctuating the last expression of your fate--
one broad stroke, inscribed across the right-hand lane.
The catch in my throat
disproportionate
to our brief encounter.
I never learned your name;
I do not know who misses your warmth,
your purring,
that look of wonder in your eyes.
But I shall remember you,
Fellow night-time wanderer.
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