By Jean Baur

The first night it rained
I thought of you
In the garden,
Getting wet,
And the mother in me
Wanted to bring you in. 

Wrapped in the orange towel
Paws tucked together–you are
Just the way you slept on the couch
Except now you’re silent
In the raw earth.

I will plant snowdrops
So that you, white and black cat,
Companion of 18 years,
Will break through the brittle
Winter crust before anything else, 
Pushing your way, as you always did,
Straight into my arms. 

Jean Baur is the author of three books and has written throughout her career. Her first two books cover career issues; the third is about her first therapy dog, Bella:  “Joy Unleashed.” Jean started out writing poetry, published in a wide range of literary journals, and now focuses mostly on narrative nonfiction. She also designs and delivers workshops for library staff on diverse topics from stopping burnout, customer service, and how to wear many hats without losing your head. For more information please see

8 thoughts on “Poem for Henry

  1. i can relate. i have my furry ladies buried in the backyard and when it gets cold outside i feel very sad that they are out there. My doc says that they are no longer their in spirit but they are where cats and dogs go for heaven.


  2. The unconditional love one has for a pet!
    Beautifully expressed in a few lines. It’s not how long your poem is but how emotionally stirring it is.👍🏻


  3. Pingback: Aesthetic Dreams
  4. It hasn’t been a week yet since our dear little cat, Chips, died. He’s in our garden, under a
    snowdrop, wrapped about with his covers and I miss him so much. Thank you for this lovely poem that says everything I wanted to say.


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