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?"
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.
(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?"
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
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.