Poem for a dead cat

a specter's memory,
he moved,
on pussywillowed feet
a trail
of velvet gray
like the hem
of a lady's gown
skirting the ground.
a gentle breeze
of
mew
and wiry whiskered
tickles
a shadow,
eyes that
danced with light,
green
and red
a conflagration,
of
silent steps

Meow