Since the Cat Left
by Michael Foley
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since the cat left
my heart—a flutter against the pane looking for a way out or a way in a shadow of wings pressed like lithographic impressions of flight not so much blurry as arrhythmic who’d have thought being free means being on time beating opening closing winged hinge not like the inter-island wind finding its way into one nostril only to find its way out the other what was once a purring is no more and since the chili pepper bush was planted too far from the downspout his grave lies vague and unmarked his ninth life was tender a kitten in the body of a warrior and a killer his ghost continued to come round until I got a dog and now he’s truly in the ground a melodious laughing thrush sings loud and long at his passing |
