He’s there. Glimpses, then gone, but I see you. Sneaking through the shadows, dodging the open spaces, peering from hidey holes, running for cover. I see you. I feel you. Survivor, street scuttler, night walker, hidden crier, bony wanderer. All weathers, alone, you wander the streets, round and round but will not trust. Your gaunt face stares, I tell you it’s okay, I mean no harm, only want to help, but it’s been too long, too hard for you to ease that wall you’ve created around yourself. What is your story, where did you come from, were you loved once, what have you lost? What past is hiding behind those sad, shining eyes? I see all that you carry as your thin frame and huge eyes keep on going, keep turning away.
I’ve seen you for a long time; you’re one of those, those who from the first awareness make it clear this is going to be hard, you have to be in it for the long haul. You’re around, you disappear, I worry, think you are lost this time, but eventually you return. Now, you are back again, brief glimpses of you, here then gone; but it’s cold, so cold, the winter turning fully into itself, the ice cold nights, the frozen days, as you skulk your lonely, hungry way. Last year I worried about you, all through the harsh winter I looked out for you, barely a glimpse and then nothing. I feared it had finally been too much for you. But then, there you were, alive, you’d survived somehow, but now, here we are again and it’s getting colder, harder. You appear and wander through regularly now. I keep my eyes open for you all the time, beautiful fox-cat, with your long, brush tail, your half-long fur, white and ginger, hiding your bony body, your staring, wary eyes I see always.
My two don’t make you welcome, I’m afraid, especially Poe, my territorial boy, he watches for you always, smells you, knows you’ve been around. It’s a delicate balance, because I will help you if you let me, if you relent, even as mine grumble and rebel. They know what I do, they know how it is, for so they came to be; for they were both this way, years ago now, but that’s how I found them, skulking, crying, hiding, starving and followed the same waiting game, trying to reach out, trying to build trust and that’s what keeps me trying, for they were just the same; I feared I would never be able to reach them, never be able to help them, but eventually, month by month, day by day, moment by moment, they began to understand it was okay. Bit by bit they tested me, slowly the gap between us began to narrow, it took so long but here they are. So I look at them to remind myself, and remember, how long it took, how I never imagined I would reach them, that it was impossible, but they are with me, each with their own hang ups and foibles moulded into them from their secret past, the distance between each other always present, but nevertheless we share our space and they no longer have to tolerate the cold, hard streets and they live their lives, they are who they are, free to be so, without the hardship. So too may you one day, be looking out at the world, the hard, lonely, solitary world that was yours, that you believed was the only life you could have, cast out, now watching from the inside, knowing you are welcome, knowing you are loved, you don’t have to struggle anymore, that you are no longer alone, you have your place.
Another came through the summer, an old boy, so sweet, so grateful, so calm and wise, an honour to help him through his journey, but eventually he has found his sanctuary, he is safe and as one is saved, another appears, so it goes, for it never ends, there will always be another, many others, always the ghosts haunting the streets, the lost and lonely ones, breaking my heart. But eyes are always watching, seeing the loners and the strugglers, you are noticed and help is there, if we play the waiting game, which has already begun. It began a long time ago, that far away day I first noticed you and wondered. You had all the signs of being an outcast, a street cat. We have seen each other, we know each other’s voices, presence; the connection has been made. I see you, I feel you, so hold on and day by day a new life could creep closer and closer. It’s a hard journey, it’s a slow grind, but it makes all the difference. Wherever you are, I reach out, there is no boundary to love’s frequency, so, alone in the night, scurrying through the days, feel me, know you are not alone, know there is a way out, you don’t have to struggle, to gird yourself against the world, I’m here, there are others too, so try to break through the isolation that binds you, the barrier you have woven around yourself. I see you, I feel you, let me help you.
So each day begins, each night ends: is he around? Where is he? Is he okay? A constant distraction, a looking out, trying to catch him passing through, watching out for Poe’s reaction, bristling, expanding. Sometimes only your wowl reaches me and then you’re gone, the cry echoing on the air, your presence so elusive. But, I’m here, I wait, I watch, it’s up to you.
I caught you a night ago, frozen in Poe’s wowling glare; it was late, freezing and your huge eyes stared straight ahead, not wanting violence, only to get away. Somehow I managed to lure Poe away, tempting him with biscuits; as he turned into the house, I quickly risked bending down and dropping a pile for you, so sure you’d run, as you have before, not even tempted by food in your urgency to escape. Making sure Poe was distracted, I peeped out again to take you more and you were there, huddled in the dark, eating them, you pulled back, of course, but I left more close by and went inside. A while later they were gone; but so were you. So it goes on, as so many times before. Watching, waiting, frustration, sadness, never knowing if it will end well, if it will all come to nothing. I watch, I wait, I watch, I wait….there’s nothing else to do but send a message to you, tell your story, keep you alive.
outsidersinsides 
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