Fog

Use the words in your poem: Pumpkin - Cat - Fog

The cat came first,
meowing on the back step
cloaked in fog that swirled around him
like a cloak. Pitiful, scrawny thing.
Wet from late fall rain, fur in grey spikes,
with big green eyes. Hungry and fearful,
it hissed when I wrapped it in a towel,
but purred at a warmed bowl of milk.

I didn't need a cat.
I could barely take care
of myself. But he purred
and fell asleep, his paw
inside the empty bowl.

Two pumpkins graced the front porch.
One, oversized, perfect for a Halloween grin.
The other, not much more than a gourd
with a curled stem.

The children came with Halloween.
Fists of candy smiles, thank yous ringing
in the darkness. The cat, still unnamed,
sitting in the front window
unsure of the commotion,
the doorbell ringing,
but sitting there
none-the-less
on guard.

Days later, as fog slithered around
the withered pumpkins on the porch,
I came home, late, from work.
Greeted with eyes, green, glowing,
and a tail, arcing around ankles,
I realized it was nice,
really nice,
to have someone waiting for me.

I was reminded of a poem about fog
coming in on little cat feet
and thinking that the fog had come in
bringing me a little cat.
Filled out and fluffy now,
purring in my lap.
Fog, I thought,
and officially named the cat.