Selected Poems
The Orange Cat
(For Alicia Ostriker)
My dog watches an orange cat
stares at her new-found fascination.
We have two cats at home
but none who look like him.
She sits, studies him, yawns
across a fresh cut lawn.
No tug at the slack leash
Her cat does not notice her.
Minutes pass and she lays still
wet in shaded grass and waits.
Oblivious, he squats and eats.
Someone walks by, in between.
This magic spell is broken
mid-moment of the passing.
Now, her orange cat is gone.
She sighs, stands. We walk home.
My dog watches an orange cat
stares at her new-found fascination.
We have two cats at home
but none who look like him.
She sits, studies him, yawns
across a fresh cut lawn.
No tug at the slack leash
Her cat does not notice her.
Minutes pass and she lays still
wet in shaded grass and waits.
Oblivious, he squats and eats.
Someone walks by, in between.
This magic spell is broken
mid-moment of the passing.
Now, her orange cat is gone.
She sighs, stands. We walk home.