Stray Cat

I am a stray cat.

Laying out in the early morning in the crisp, cool air

On the firm, black tar of a familiar homes’ driveway.

I shiver in the frigid wind.

My charcoal colored fur twitches with my skin

And I curl up with a yawn as the sun rises.

I rest here for a while.

The sun warms my fur as the day begins

And I stretch out as I plan out my day.

I am grateful for the sun.

The air has warmed, the earth and myself,

And so my daily path begins.

I wander through my neighborhood.

The families I have come to know have also begun their day

And I wonder what it must be like.

I climb onto the decks.

Peeking into the windows, I can see them,

The families and their own pets.

I watch as they have their meals.

My curiosity is sated and I continue on,

There is no reason for me to stick around.

I do this often.

I observe others while I sit back and watch.

And while I could join in, I choose not to.

I could join in.

But something holds me back

And I just cannot bring myself to dive in.

I am on the outside.

The outside looking in is how I am.

This is how I live and occasionally I yearn for more.

I am always welcomed.

The families feed and pet me every day

And I in return spend time with them.

I move on eventually.

It is inevitable and I find myself once again

On the outside looking in.