Though cats have no king, I am King of the Cats.
Were you born to be a cat, you’d understand this
And show your obedience by making no sign --
No sign at all -- of your unbreakable loyalty.
When I replaced her I had almost everything right
The tone of her voice, the way she walked
The nod that came from nowhere as she agreed
With something that hadn’t been said.
But her eyes– I never got the color right
Fortune had it, though, that no one noticed.
Few jobs for changelings in this new world
This bright 19th century, covered in soot;
But, the old bargain remains – she called; I came.
She had seen her death, many years off,
And liked it not at all. Polidories for you!
Never satisfied. Lately I have come to suspect
That something like a soul has grown in me;
A comfort, perhaps, when I meet her sad demise.