The Seven Cat Ballet
Let me unobtrusively set the scene
(By saying unobtrusively I make it so),
they are in the deserted cattle yard
surrounded by high whitewashed fences
layers of underbrush, weeds tangled in artistic knots.
The sun stage-setting, veils of purple and red
watercoloring the sky behind them.
There is no music --
only the complaints of insects and the soft thuds of catlanding
with four splayed feet
under and over each other.
To catalog: two cats golden-barred and desert-eyed,
big-boned, all sinew and muscle;
the elegant plume called a black cat;
the grey and white, each paw paint-pot dipped
and then the end of the tail, so;
and the three small tabbies
caught up in nothing but themselves.
catbody over catbody
leaps and lunges, feints and escapes.
I bear witness, this is my testimony,
This happened, this was really so.
© Copyright 1999 Cat Francis.
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