there is a name for this

she feeds the stray
that's not a stray
belongs to neighbors four doors down
the now-plump feline-prior-athlete buff enough
to leap from mailbox to the upper roof
now plops flat on footpath waiting
for perpetual installments of dessert

she's at that age when certain women gather
evidence of motherhood that might have been
attracting cats (the paper said one woman
in a nearby county had been living in a hole
with tarp over the lid,
shared space with hundreds that she fed)
there is a name for this

the dish outside her door remains
she sets her watch by when he comes to feed
speaks sharply to the neighbor children
who declare that he's their cat
as she continues pouring copper-colored food
into the matching plastic dish