The Strangeness of Society
Spring (viii)
Our cat is up the tree again; I hear her cry
over the lonely tattering of prayer flags
worn to transparency by the wind. I try
tempting her down with heart minced the way
she likes it, still warm from the gutted
body of the deer. I build a bridge
from our roof to the end of her branch
so she can pad across and I can rescue her.
But no, it's as if she clings to the high
dying hemlock because she has
something she wants me to see.
Later, with the moon rising I climb back
onto our roof with my flashlight, her eyes
two shiny plum pits summoning me. She
is happy now that I have come to just sit
patiently and watch from this height
the river empty into the sea.
-Susan Musgrave
(Origami Dove,
McCelland & Stewart, 2011)
