One
by one or in small groups, the ghosts
Of
cats and dogs came in while he was dying
Sitting
quietly, a truce between them.
He’d
grown up in a notional world
Where
cats knew their own names
But
didn't share them. When there was one
It
was called the cat. A second one
Was
called the other cat. Some other cats
Became
the cat when the cat died. Others
Preferred
to remain the other; an unemployed cat
Would
turn up and take on the role of the cat.
The
ghost dogs flopped down anywhere.
If
I'd called out the dog names I'd heard --
Lucky!
Bailin! Alfhund! -- one or two
Might
have approached and tried to speak
Though
they knew I haven't the gift
Of
speaking the language of dogs.
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