A 14 year old convalescent cat in the winter

Gavin Ewart


A 14 year old convalescent cat in the winter

Gavin Ewart


A 14 year old convalescent cat in the winter

I want him to have another living summer,
to lie in the sun and enjoy the douceur de vivre –
because the sun, like golden rum in a rummer,
is what makes an idle cat un tout petit peu ivre –

I want him to lie stretched out, contented,
revelling in the heat, his fur all dry and warm,
an Old Age Pensioner, retired, resented
by no one, and happinessses in a beelike swarm

to settle on him – postponed for another season
that last fated hateful journey to the vet
from which there is no return (and age the reason),
which must come soon – as I cannot forget.


from 'Gavin Ewart Collected Poems 1980-1990' (Hutchinson, 1991)

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