My Kitchen Is Haunted By A Cat Called Bailey

I wrote this poem last term as part of the poetry workshop hosted by DUELS, and the feeling of starting a new term really brought me back to this piece. It feels bittersweet, the sense of a sad ending and a new beginning personified by poor old bailey the cat, reminding me of both the excitement of coming to the end of the year, and all the fun that comes with it, and the sort of sad bitterness that another year of uni is over!

 

My kitchen is haunted by a cat called bailey, 

Where the kettle whistles on the stove, 

Condensation settling on the windowpane 

I see paw prints linger. 

 

My kitchen is haunted by a cat called bailey, 

Sometimes I still reach for him as I stir my pasta 

The quiet comfort, The loving eyes 

Hoping for a bite of whatever slips from my spoon 

 

My kitchen is haunted by a cat called bailey 

Though my radiator is still as warm and the lights burn just as brightly, 

Somehow, the kitchen seems cooler these days 

Like the glow has simmered down into just a bulb 

 

My kitchen is haunted by a cat called bailey, 

I trace his old path between the kitchen counter, 

And his bed beside the door, 

I smile finding one of his hairs on my sock. 

 

My kitchen is haunted by a cat called bailey

 

 

Image: by Antoine Pound on Flickr Commons

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