Until Your Favorite Cat Comes Poem by RIC BASTASA

It's what happens after the party
which haunts the most.

the left-overs litter on the table
the plates are like faces of people looking at you
saying 'what now? what's next? '

you will be keeping memories
of those people who leave you
because they have their own homes
away from yours

the table will be empty again
the chairs too and the veranda
will be very silent

you go out of the room and lean
on the railings of the stairs
you look at the heavens
to find out how distant are the stars

how beautiful are those which you
cannot touch

until your favorite cat comes
and rubs her head under your hands