The Cat in the Coat

Today I saw a cat in a coat
It wasn't a big cat
It wasn't even a colourful cat
(except for the coat)
But, my, it surely was an extraordinary cat
As I passed by this extraordinary cat in a coat, it feigned sleep
As that of a sleeping cat, it purred, noiselessly and
symmetrically
Its technicolour coat rising and falling like?like, communism or snow
falling on cedars
Not that snow or, for that matter, communism, would be
technicoloured
But it's the rising and falling here that's important, not the
colour
I couldn't help but stop to look at this Joseph of the cat world
Nestled in a silent place, amid the clatter and clang of the city
street
Obliviousness, fortitude, perfunctoriness
As I knelt beside this cat in a coat, its head slowly rose to greet
me
Ours eyes met in mutual respect, two old men of the world
Two old Toms, one in pants and one in a coat (the cat's in the
coat)
A faint glint of memory
Something in his eyes made my hairs rise and I shivered
Did I imagine his paw move ever so slightly?
As though being offered for a customary handshake
But then withdrawn,
As though suddenly remembering his present condition as that of a
cat
Perhaps in past lives, we had been brethren, lovers, gladiators locked
in combat
Ascending dizzying heights, drowning in nameless, faceless lovers
Burning like stars. God-like demons. Demon-like Gods.
Feasting. Unbreakable. Inconsolable. Unquenchable.
Unstoppable.