Cat

I wish I could be a cat.



A barn cat, perhaps

A fat yellow one with a white spot

That reminds the farmer’s boy of a cloud

Adrift in a golden sky.

The sort of cat that chases mice,

Birds too, the ones that can’t be caught-

Just chased.

The way the town drunk chases the moon’s twin brother

In a still lake in the middle of the night,

And tumbles into the water with a plop

Which sounds like the end of a beautiful dream,

And smells of swamp grass and shards of reflected light.

Except this cat, this cat will not drown,

Will not go down without a fight,

Because this cat will leap at the birds,

Enjoying the temporary flight,

Until it crashes into the mound of hay,

And slinks back to the barn,

Smiling to herself despite her pointless plight.

For she does not need to catch the birds,

Not really,

Not when she has a farmer boy who adores her for her spot,

Lets her in to bathe in the firelight,

And makes sure she never goes hungry,

But she chases after the birds anyway,

Because she just likes the flight.