Beach Cat of Faliraki

Like your Egyptian ancestors

you flaunt a mysterious air.

Stealthily moving forward,

right rear, right front,

left rear, left front.

Pouncing on donated scraps

from feasting tourists,

who adore cats back at home.

On that island of colours,

in a coastal village

you fight with other ferals.

Until that day when injured

you lie dying.

Generous tourist, a vet is found.

Stitched up, cleaned, released

back to your locality.

The beach, an empty sunbed

curled up basking in morning sun.

Stretching as sunbathers arrive,

they name you Smudge,

give you morsels,

cooked fish or meat gyros.

A celebrity these days,

living the good life.

They visit Faliraki to see you

lying on a gaudy towel, on that lounger.

Hidden scars make you nervous,

your future is the pleasure of the fickle,

who disappear as sun is fading.

~ Sandra Griffiths