in Istanbul they have cats
as commonly seen in the street
as cars or people.
-
some of them have big paws
others the type of matted hair
you find in the shower
clogging up a drain.
-
it doesn’t really matter
if you walk up or down
the streets of Istanbul
-
if stone is flat or cobbled
or people fill space
like a nine am elevator.
street cats can always be found.
-
many of them are the young litter
of street cat veterans
who appears more accustomed
to an idol life than their young:
cold flat concrete
shade found beneath eaves
tree branches
chairs and tables
where locals enjoy tea.
-
the wise cat with nose scar
missing chunk of ear
contains little curiosity
yet through narrow eyes
remains vigilant
over their young.
-
young that raise tails
creep toward shadows
squeeze into tight spaces
as they venture forward
towards new territories
occupied by other cats,
just like them.
-
the young learn from the old, in time
but grow with an understanding
of native kindness.
-
fish and meat and kibble
appear from street level windows
in bowls.
makeshift beds
are made from cardboard
discarded wood
offer relief on too hot days.
-
the cat eyes of Istanbul
range from ink black curious
to jaundice yellow,
everything in between.
patches of fur
white
brown and
black
feel like autumn.
-
some of these cats look like twins
others appear as lost
as a balloon
on windy day.
-
there are more cats
than can be counted
in Istanbul.
but it will forever be
the black kitten I saw
pawing at a slab of concrete
that remains as present
as the Azan cries.
-
black kitten
with milk white whiskers
unformed meow,
rib thin and empty bellied
was the one.
-
stood over little black cat
luminated by amber lamplight
at a train station
entrance
that led to a platform
the Orient Express
once took pause
-
I considered if the cats of Istanbul
knew how free they were.
Beautifully written.
Certainly freer than Istanbul journalists and authors.