I laid a road map on the table.
Henry joined me, settling himself
neatly along one fold.
“Where would you like to go?” I asked.
He sniffed the Catskills,
perused Savannah, ignored New Jersey.

The day was raining and raw.
He led me to our favorite chair
and climbed onto my lap,
his warm, tubby body heavy
against me. We napped.

To fill his evening he tackled Gus,
gave Fannie a bath she didn’t want,
and tried to trip me.
“Henry, what is the matter?”
“I’m Ruler Kitty,
and I have nothing to rule.”

I sat at the table and pulled
the map toward us. He aligned
himself between the Rockies
and the Mississippi River.
“Where should we go, Henry?”

“Let’s start at my back door –
– where the world begins.”