Arlene Corwin writes

Sadness In The Extreme

I have it – sadness in the extreme!
I couldn’t save it – t’wasn’t mine.
They who owned it could have… “Gone!”
She told me on the phone,
Tone flat, so neutral
That you’d think she’d killed a fly.
Kitty gone, their feline beautiful,
Taken to the vet for… you know why.
Nothing wrong with her - there was.
Loving, healthy, fine - she was.
All that a fine cat should be.
Bad decision clad in sad futility.
Owners growing older daily,
Gradually, progressively, all of the time.
Moving house to smaller quarters,
Newly built, expensive, prime.
(balcony that sees the sea)
“We’re afraid she won’t adapt”
Were they crazy?
“Any life is better than no life,
And all things living love to live”*
Were they not able to see what
                is palpably discernible to me?
With right intelligences (they’re no dunces)
They had choices:
Training new, recurrent, eager;
New, right owner found discreetly.
Ads here, there and everywhere.
Something, anything but killing!
But, as said, they weren’t willing,
Will and energy the key.
So I’m sad in the extreme,
Tears streaming as I write,
Their plight the cat’s,
If truth be writ.

*Arlene Corwin, quoting herself.

 

 --Nik