Rex Goes Outside at Night

This poem started out as a poem about our shed cat, Rex. (He’s a shed cat because we don’t have a barn, so I can’t call him a barn cat.) He lives outside with Luna and we hope helps keep the gopher population at a manageable level.

By the time I wrote the second stanza of this poem, it had changed into a poem about a completely different cat–not a shed cat, like my Rex, living a wild life outside, but an indoor/outdoor cat, longing for the great outdoors, but scared out of his wits.

I had a lot of fun with the rhymes in this poem, and also the repetition. I tried to choose the important phrases from each stanza to repeat and used the repetition to help build the poem until the end. I also tried to incorporate as many household objects as possible, such as the drapes, beds, and the clock, to emphasize Rex’s life indoors.

I hope you enjoy this poem about Rex, the afraid yet unsatisfied house cat.

Rex

Rex goes outside at night
And he does cat things
In the pale moonlight
And under bats’ wings
At night, Rex goes out and does cat things

Rex lingers by the door
And waits for his chance to escape
He slinks across the floor
Or hides behind a drape
At night, Rex sniffs the air and plots to escape

Rex pounces, a coiled spring,
And leaps across the doorframe
Just like he’s chasing a string;
A cat feels no guilt or shame
At night, Rex bides his time and leaps the ‘frame

Rex returns at morning’s light,
A pitiful, bedraggled cat,
His night out’s given him a fright
He mews upon the Welcome mat
At daybreak, Rex returns, a fearful cat

Rex bolts into the house
And cowers under the bed
He bypasses a mouse,
Choosing to sleep instead
At daybreak, Rex runs in and finds the bed

Rex slowly wakes up and wonders
And stretches his sharp claws
He’s commited no feline blunders
He’s escaped the coyote’s jaws
At noon, Rex wakes up and stretches his claws

Rex wanders the quiet rooms
And crunches his mouseless meals
He puts his ears back and zooms
Down the hall as the clock bell peals
After noon, Rex wanders the house and eats his meals

Rex knows this is no life
For a cat as brave as he
He misses the fight and strife
And the cost of being outdoorsy
At dusk, Rex considers the life of a cat such as he

Rex finds his urban life wanting
And sniffs the air by the door
He finds the prospect daunting,
But he can’t be inside anymore
At night, Rex makes decisions and heads for the door

Rex goes outside at night, every night,
And he does cat things
In the glow of the streetlight
And under mosquitoes’ wings
At night, Rex goes out and does cat things

Feature photo: My cat Rex, the smallest, fiercest shed cat of them all
Bottom photo: A drawing of what Rex might look like ignoring a mouse