for Tick-Tock

for my sweet kitten, Tick-Tock, who was killed by a car this week.


like some bring voles
my cat brings in rainstorms
- I wrote that before
the news stretched at me, pink and teeth:

"found stiff"
I think ghosts are the spaces that
love once filled,
now thundering in the corners of our eyes

the storm gets in through gaps:
the missing claw spattering
drool wet pillowcase
whiskery soft bumping crawling curling warming devotions ofmissing

yea but I know
she's scurrying sunpacked trails
with her switchback legs and
her fur floating off, always wasshedding

shedding,
yea,
but while the sun crushes out July
a wet ghost is curling under my chin.