The orange cat that always surprises us,
by being there,
though often he is not.
The stray cat from another home.
Perhaps he knows when to leave me alone
and when to return.
His orange ears attuned to open wi-fi signals,
when I read sonnets by Shakespeare on
my laptop in the garden,
on my lap the cat jumps,
spills the drink I chose to enjoy.
The cat has chosen to surprise me,
and to whisper Shakespeare’s sonnets,
to spill juice and to find me where I was.