Mike

She wasn’t part of the plan.
She simply appeared.

Oliver brought her one day —
a quiet shadow behind him.
We thought she was just a visitor.
A friend.

Then we learned she was a she.
And in spring, she had kittens.

Life, arriving on its own terms.

We had always imagined
a black cat with a witch’s gaze.
Sharp eyes.
A little untamed.

And there she was.

Not asking to belong.
Not trying to be soft.

A little distant.
A little wild.
Watching more than approaching.

She doesn’t always come when called.
She chooses her moments.
Her distance.
Her closeness.

But she stayed.

And somehow, without asking,
she became ours.