Memory of Meow

We followed the faint meowing,
intermittent, but
so find-me frantic, it could not
be ignored.

Followed it, (quick! quick!)
slipping and sliding
on wet grass and ice,
to a drainpipe,
grated – but that could be removed,
and was.

Down there, in semi-darkness,
clinging to a rim,
was the source of the meow.
It was all big round eyes,
and tiny triangles for ears.
Just a handful of
damp ginger fur that our stretching arms
could not quite reach.

Desperation!
What to do?
And while we dithered,
a great gushing spout of water
flooded the drain,
removing all but the memory …
of meow, and big round eyes,
and tiny triangle ears.