Harbinger

Last night, it rained.

My mood fell with the barometer

Like a cat jolting and skidding down the trunk of a tree,

Outraged and offended.



I hot-footed it across the wet grass

Until I found sanctuary on the planks

Under the porch light.

There, I allowed myself to drift into dreams.



I dreamt that two realities had split.

I, and a few rag-tag others remained in one,

While the crowd was consumed by another.

I stole a small blue car

With a little boy in it.

I asked him, "Do you want to get out?

"Do you want to wait for the woman you came here with?"

He did,

And so I unbuckled him, reached across and opened the door.

When I saw her,

I longed to be released, myself,

But the road called me

And I answered, out of duty.



You may think it a strange thing

For a cat to speak of duty;

We have it,

But on our own terms.

That night

(in my dream)

I made myself human

(a weary dream in itself)

And made love to the woman I had seen.

It all came back to me

As these things will.



When I was a child,

Our neighbor would always ask, "What are you today?"

Because

Every morning I declared myself something different.

Today I woke from sleep

--and both of my dreams--

Asking myself the same thing.



Coffee seemed the only cure.

Do you find it odd that a cat should crave coffee?

Women wrap their hands around us both,

For our warmth,

And for the hint of other lands.

We love them

As we love ourselves,

And so I wanted coffee.



My cupboards are most distinctly feminine--

They have no handles.

One must place fingertips in just the right place

To move them.



I mix mocha

With Francais;

Perhaps I am a Moor,

But I think I am a simple tabby.

Today, skies are clear.

The outside light is off.

I say nothing of the things I have seen.

I go on looking.

I switch my tail.

There is much to be done, and I am doing it,

As still as a saint at her prayers,

On your porch rail

Under the steadily rising sun.

________