Aug 282011
 

Our daily catbird in the parking lot,
Half-unknowing his danger where he stood,
Sang out eyes-shut atop a cinder block.

A blue abandoned Cougar, its purr removed,
(Haunted all last night by a pregnant stray 
Hunkering into home in her birthing mood)

Had a dead crow's feathers like an exploded toy
Puffed from under a moveless wheel hoved tight,
Feeding what must come, at most, in a day.

Obliquely by her belly kept from being quite upright,
In cotton fog half-obscuring our shared world,
The mottled cat sat motionless on one stripe.

The catbird's territory song searched vacant grounds
That should have had a wood to sing through,
Not learned to be inured to all our sounds.

I wondered how I'd feel with the catbird shooed,
Mother-cat nursing uncurled by the curb,
Patched kittens purling dust just where he flew.

Silent in the silence man-made things disturb,
The cat, too quick for me to see, pounced once,--
And the catbird, leapt to asphalt eaves, sang on.

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