When Will You Come Home? (Series of 5)

POEM:

The clock ticks again,

Now it’s already 1 a.m.

A cat waits by a window.

The wind blows even harder,

The rain comes down faster,

The lighting then flashes,

Followed by thunder crashes,

The cat waits by the window.

“When will you come home?” Is what the cat wonders.

He continues to sit there, all alone.

No sign of his owner.

Or even the car.

No call of his name

Or clink of the treat jar.

No thumping of footsteps

Or the rustling of a coat.

No cheerful laugh

Nothing to indicate his owner is home.

The cat waits by the window.

Now it’s half past 4.

Still no sound of the door opening,

Scraping across the floor

No sound of the lock clicking

No sight of those familiar shoes

No sight of the lights blinking on

No whiff of perfume.

A whole day passes

And then a whole week

The cat waits by the window.

Still waiting, waiting, waiting.

And longing, longing, longing.

Although it is clear by now

His owner is never returning home.