Night
Wind
My soul is restless
as a cat on windy nights,
when
thoughts like pretty ribbons
in the wind are
dangled briefly,
catch my eye, I
reach, and
off
they go, to draw me out and on
to dance the
dervish, fly aloft
in silvern light ascending,
whiskers
twitching, wideyes shining
Outside In
The sky is a shiny
black pearl
bubble
enclosing
a crystaliquid world
precisely
poised
with
moon and stars lighting tiny structures:
Mountain forest
silhouette
against
a glowing silver sky
enclosed
in darkness hidden greens
and
russet brown of redwood bark
rapid rabbit
heart waiting breathless
black
beetle busy digging like
claw of cat
with large and
limpid eye enclosing . . . .
Lynx
Don't move.
Shallow breathing,
slow and even;
silent
heart.
The mat of leaves
and twigs can barely hide you,
and
he can smell you.
Pacing the light
spot of the clearing
the
lynx is moaning low and long, insistent
to
find your puny hairless flesh;
and
you can smell his musk.
You sweat fear
he
sweats rage
tail
twitching, nostrils flaring, eye slits searching
Don't move.
Don't breathe.
Swallow the scream,
still your shaking.
Still.
Warm
Nuzzles Waking
Drifting up from
dreams of comfort,
smooth,
cool sheets and warm weight on my chest.
Claws retracted,
paws that knead the covers,
and
a purring, furry snout beneath my chin.
The murmur growing,
glow begins to spread
Delicious stillness
in my limbs
a
sleepy fog inside my head.
The flush extending
down my sides,
the
smell of cat pee jangles me awake.
Cats don't always land on their feet.
Panther
Gray unpainted pews
in a gray unpainted station
hints
of brown beneath the dust
no
train, no bus.
The man in the pew
ahead is holding
a
huge black cat
long
and thin, of silken soot.
He holds it like a
baby at his shoulder,
rocking
forward, pats its neck
and
the cat glares back at you.
Rocking back they creak the pew
and
the panther takes a swipe.
Taloned paw on snake-thin foreleg,
lifted
high in graceful motion,
flung
down, stretching out to strike,
but
not quite reaching eye and lip
The wind of a near
miss ruffles your hair
and
all you can do is gag and stare
The yellow eye is
welded to your own
and every slap comes closer
Cat Cars
Huffing, lowroll-strutting
prowling
panthers,
Menacing
darktint
thruster
barons,
hunt
the smoky crime-night street
and smell my
fear
amid
the dust and grass blades.
They glide by,
purring
gut-low growl
of
ego
anger, self-assured
piston-pounding
cylinder drums.
One crouches back to
gather
paws and will
and
sudden
force uncoiling
flaring
forward, burning
blue-white
path through rushing night
Howling heavy metal
engine guitar
gravel
turbine
scream projectile
lengthens
down the row of yellow lights
leaving a
scent trail of sweathot rubber
burning
bakelite, smoking grease
and hot black-carbon breath.