Sleep Well
To a very dear friend
who eradicated a fear
and made it possible for me to
survive a difficult year:
I want you to know
you'll always be in my heart.
You've known that all
along, right from the start.
You grew from an
infant in my shaking arms.
You always ran to me
to protect you from harm.
You cried in the car,
no matter who was near,
and it became your
charm with each passing year.
A beautifully formed
face and delicate eyes
opened so wide in
those times of surprise.
And in times of
comfort, your eyes squeezed closed,
after which I would
often tickle your nose.
I clipped all your
nails and fought you in the bath,
but you allowed me to
do this without sight of your wrath.
I wrapped you in
towels and you slept in my arms.
You hummed your thanks—another
of your charms.
So what if your soft
hair littered the room?
And your belly was
wider than an inflated balloon?
You led all the
others—the king of the town.
You protected the yard
and kept the clamor down.
You sat on the cars
when the engines were warm.
Or you huddled beneath
them if rain ever formed.
And when you wanted
inside, you knocked on the door.
When you wanted out,
you sat patiently on the floor.
You once fought a dog
ten times your size.
That was how we named
you, you realize.
And when other pets
came, you allowed them their spaces.
They invaded yours
until you gently swatted their faces.
I remember those days
and I will for all time.
To ensure that, I'm
immortalizing you in this rhyme.
You were the most
incredible cat, and were never too cocky.
Sleep well, my dear
friend. I will miss you, Rocky.
—Steve
November 1, 1995