Little Kitty
eats almost all
of Big Kitty’s food
before I have a chance 
to fill and put down her own plate
which I always do first
and not with my back turned 
to the two of them
except for this morning 
when I forgot. 

Big Kitty 
sits there staring at me
while the piracy
is taking place. 

I always cringe
when my soft brain fails me,
ashamed of what I see as
my cruelty,
intended or not.

“I’m sorry, so sorry,”
I say as I put Little Kitty’s
plate full of her preferred
mush before Big Kitty,
which she tucks into
as if nothing much
has happened.

I feel
more upset than is warranted,
I guess. My forgetfulness, 
more and more common these days,
leads to these small harms
no one much cares about,
but I gather them and 
hoard them in secret places
until I am rich with self-blame.

The cats make do.
I make mistakes, then coffee.

Mistakes
before coffee,

no one as bothered
by my failures as I am,

and me piling up words
about all of it:

a pirate stealing meaning
from a sinking ship.