I saw a deceased palmetto bug
this morning in the rest room
of our favorite coffee shop .
It is the first we’ve seen
in four winters here in Florida,
and we didn’t mourn its passing.
Forty-six years ago, during
a previous Florida life, my cat
would find numerous palmettos,
which she found made great toys
to dribble across the terazzo floors
of the small apartment, and
once deceased, tuck into a corner
for later play, or when upset with me,
to deposit in some location where
I couldn’t hope to notice until
it was too late, the grin
on her face positively Cheshire.
She also caught mice, despite being
declawed, but she had the courtesy
to deposit their bodies by front door.