The first one came in Daddy's jacket
sticking his nose against my searching hand.
The next was a stray, which climbed upon our step
and mewed, and left behind a baby when she died.
Granny brought one as a gift at Christmas.
Mama said it was the best
as she watched it stalk an empty paper bag.
My favorite was the Midnight Prince
whose shadow was far lighter than his fur.
I pulled him struggling from the womb, and
with my fingers wiped the birth away.
If he had had no breath, I would have given him my own.
I wrapped him in a towel and rocked him in my arms.
"You're mine," I said.
"I gave you life, and now you are my own."