21 December 2004

Carol Peters

waiting for the cat

a door closed with me inside it signals harbor
until I remember the cat remains out
not punishment call it the cat’s free will

nocturnal though I try to retrain her night
is a time for sleeping over and over
I make my point out there she does her roaming

tonight I join her thinking she might be caught
by her collar in a brush pile the collar
I make her wear the brush pile I left after

cutting down the bushes where small birds nested
beneath my window she strays farther her hunt
diurnal blending into night I lie awake

1 comment:

  1. wonderful, carol. I am in love with the fourth stanza.