Standing in the doorway… short black hair hangs loosely on his forehead; his face is pale, his eyes full of storms…

 Sitting in the grass… long gray and white fur, a “puff ball” gray and white cat SAT looking up at the man standing in the doorway…

 Lightning flickered within the man’s storm-filled eyes.

 He didn’t move, but it was like he gestured, within, at the cat sitting in the grass.

 The gray and white cat quivered, almost imperceptible, BUT continued to watch.

 The man was standing in the doorway. The cat was sitting in the grass.

They considered each other for awhile.  Not a sound.

Later the man wondered why or how he did… it was spontaneous.




The Cat Came In (concept of caves continued)

The Brown Tabby, a feral, visits.

Later, we found this cat …

  1. Nestled in the underwear drawer. How did she get in that cramped space?
  2. Underneath, towards the front of, the bed where all the magazines were stacked. How did she fit?
  3. In the corner of the closet behind the spindly legs of the folding chair. Why?

 Men aren’t the only ones who crave caves.

Puzzle, Unsolved…

When my cat is staring out the window,

what soul does he intently look into?

Wind moving through the tree branches, rustles.

Do the birds, inspired by this sound, hustle?

Sometimes, the cat instinctively chatters;

since the allure of the birds MATTERS.

But is it only birds my cat doth see?

Perhaps, it’s an animal who is free!

However, when I creep up to peek,

my cat leaves, for me a failed hide and seeks.

Unrequited Love Poem

The Brown Tabby – dark streaks spread far apart in a muddy brown river (the fur), black eyelin[ing] olive almond eyes – was a sturdy fine feline.  And she SAT in the middle of the living room, tail curled around her feet, waiting to be acknowledged to be loved.

But the humans were oblivious.

The Brown Tabby, patient as a tree, eventually gave up.  Walking to the door she turned her head and meowed to be let out.

Natural Nuances

Brown rivulets caressed the tabby’s back.

Courage, caution, for this cat there’s no lack.

Infrequent blue skies, sparse clouds, thin black sticks;

Blue Jay peering at me, up to no tricks

Meditating on my black cat’s eyes,

Is like walking down a hall by and by.

Starlings fluttering in the small puddles –

Bathing, dew, black and gold feathers, HUSTLE!

The Wind ruffled the tree’s feelings, Banshee

A faraway dog barks – Oh just to BE.

My Old Feline Friend

The white cat with gray tabby patches, “Feline Appaloosa” — I know this cat! — runs to my side, frenetic hop, skip and a jump. The cat, my old feline friend, then speaks, well almost; it’s body language: fluctuating, (A shy cat will wrap its body around everything BUT you.) generating, ring-around-the-rosy, motorboat engine nonstop PURRING – attraction STATIC. The white cat with gray tabby patches, “Feline Appaloosa“, leans against my leg, staring across the yard, empty lot, at the shrubbery [in the back yard, next house]. I could almost see “Feline Appaloosa” VIBRATE, (Aura?). Was this fear — the white cat with gray tabby patches was almost shivering — or was this just high-alert, awareness of something out there THAT I CAN’T SEE (FRUSTRATING!) dancing in place while standing still. Suddenly, we part company, offstage cue. The white cat with gray tabby patches, “Feline Appaloosa” ducks underneath the porch [to eat the food I left in the bowl] while I go up the steps. We glance at each other, snap of the fingers moment, ZOOM gloom, “Later, Friend.” But I still wonder. I still feel, I still sense the vibration, feline taut wire. WHO was that cat WATCHING?!