There’s a cat in the house
and no one knows who owns it.
Its fur is Dad’s new beard
and its tail the wooden beams
stretching across the ceiling
above people dancing in the living room
and below people sleeping.
There’s a cat in the house
refusing water from a human cup,
tip-toeing through the kitchen
wondering who it belongs to,
and why the building feels like home.

© Carl Burkitt 2022