The Greeting

There is nothing casual

in the way he greets me,

though he looks relaxed,

unfolding himself

from where he sprawls

and adopting a leisurely,

almost-swaggering pace.

He is so fluid, moving

with feline grace,

approaching my car

with slow, deliberate steps,

keeping his eyes continually

fixed on mine, holding me

with his intent gaze.

There is nothing formal

in the way I respond —

smiling without premeditation,

alighting quickly,

calling out his name, showing

my pleasure to see him

with an immediate hug.

As we walk up the steps

to the door, I tell him

how good he looks,

his black hair smooth and sleek,

and he tells me

how much he’s missed me,
nuzzling me and purring.

31 Poems in 31 Days (Poewar / Writer's Resource Center). Prompt: Use the words 'formal' and  'casual' in a poem.