By the way, my cat talks to ghosts

I do not hear the most pleasant things

At night when my cat’s collar bell rings.

I hear spirits whispering,

sinks running,

children laughing,

water boiling,

glasses clinking,

  and the ding-a-ling-a-ling

From that

Thing

My playful cat wears.

But while these sounds seem like

Pleasant things,

   I know that if I walk downstairs to see the bustling of a reunion of sorts, I will only see my cat.

Looking around at the emptiness,

Which sounds like a busy commotion.

But nothing and nobody and no one is there.

 

This poem is about: 
My family

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