My Cat Knew Nothing of Politics

My cat knew nothing of politics.

It knew of sunshine and squirrels,
Of food bowls and litter boxes,
And it seemed oddly talented at staring,
     mostly at me, as if I was absurd
     (and perhaps I was).

The unrest in the outside world
Mattered to it only
If it impacted its other truths,
     of squirrels, and food
     (and staring).

How it is that I got the body of a human
And the heart of a cat
I will never know,
     but its ways shine simply
     through the fiber of my Self—

I have happiness and warmth,
The occasional tender touch from love's hand,
And an odd amalgamation of constant joy
     and that odd staring
     (mostly at you),

As if you are absurd.