We Didn’t Find Him Poem by Gert Strydom

We didn’t find him,
he found us
on a grey rainy
winter afternoon
just before the sun
was setting.

I opened the refrigerator
taking out some milk for tea
for the two of us
and there he was on deck
next to the patio
on the other side
of the large sliding window
greeting with a voice
sounding more like a sheep
than that of a cat.

His green eyes stared at me
and probably the carton of milk
and his black coat shone
like onyx from the rain.

It was clear that he was
miserable, wet, cold
and very hungry
and thinned out
as if his people
had abandoned him
and I took a towel,
talked to him
and picked him up
and carried him in
while rubbing him dry

and he ate as much
as the Persian eats
in three days
and from then
I was like a god to him
and had a follower
who adored me endlessly,
but you never really liked him
although at times
you stroked him
on his head and back.