I rest my head on his shoulder

I met our local ward boss this afternoon: a longish-haired, black-and-white cat sauntering across the street to meet a trio of children on their own front steps. When I asked if the cat was theirs, I was told that he belonged to the neighbors, but roamed as he pleased. His collar declared him to be friendly and not lost. He butted my hands for attention and then returned to his constituency. I did not think to take his portrait, but I did photograph the trees reflecting like oil in Alewife Brook. I remain incredibly tired.