Thumping heart in the loo
pumping my fist on my chest to be awake
for the morning after the flying roman candles.
There is a dead cat lying on the lawn
and three more houses to check
but no trace of white on the cat.
He is all black,
a sweet thing with two tags
one where the address dropped off.
This deserves a cigarette as I stand
alone not knowing who owns
a black cat barely seen
in the break of day and by night a shadow.
Today he is dead with a crash bang wallop
after a night of sparklers hangs in the air,
what a day to be a cat.