Dreams Like Outdoor Cats

a metaphor. I miss them.

They cluster ‘round the edges,
Hunched like hunger
For something out of reach;
Watching from the shadows,
Sleeping in bright spots of sun;

Crying at the windows,
Warming themselves on cars
Not yet cooled from fevered race.
They wait outside closed doors
For just one chance
To slip inside.

They live on scraps,
Dry food shared
With homeless things
Just passing through;
Remembered in passing
But never in the thick of things
Where waiting dreams aren’t even missed
Until too many days have passed
To remember when last we held their
Warm purring in our cold laps.

Only when they are gone do we notice.