he buried his head under my chin
or stared at me lit by the light
the moon through the window shone on him,
his smooth black coat under my hands
petting him as we said goodbye
in a language we both understand,
while i did my best not to cry.
not now, not yet, i told myself,
there will be weeks ahead for that,
but even so i could not help
but to weep and hold my dying cat.