The Companion

Like a full moon, his topaz eyes set deep,
The gentle face of my pale cat hangs low
Near mine. I cannot see him as I sleep,
But start to stir as, coming up from slow

Dreaming, I sense his gentle presence there.
Reaching to touch the beige and silken fur,
I see reflected in his eyes, a stare
Full of affection. Soon a steady purr

Comes rumbling, deep, to show me his concern,
And then relief that I am now awake.
What did he think, I’d taken a bad turn?
No matter – he was watching, for my sake;

A beast whose feelings, sensibilities
Are finer than the average, it would seem.
All night he watches. Who knows what he sees—
Or if we walk together, in my dream?

Sally Cook is both painter and poet. Whether writ­ing or paint­ing, she keeps a sharp eye out for the psy­cho­log­i­cal por­trait. Her essays and poetry have been pub­lished in jour­nals such as The Chimera, Chron­i­cles, Con­tem­po­rary Son­net, Iambs & Trochees, Pivot, and The For­mal­ist Por­tal. Look for her in the next issue of Light Quar­terly. Cook’s review “Rhyming The Right”, of William Baer’s anthol­ogy “The Con­ser­v­a­tive Poets”, may be seen both in the cur­rent issue of The Uni­ver­sity Book­man and on its website.