After the April sun and wind
had wrung every drop of dust
from every deserted furrow
clouds visited intense rain
and green sprang everywhere:
lush intense green riper than
memory sweeter than earth
bolder than promises of sweet
kisses by youth who have heard
how sweet kisses can be.
Our cat assistant is learning
how to knit perhaps
“teaching herself”
is more accurate
as we have no desire
to encourage
this perling aspiration
for our high-strung cat
I used to wonder
why that string puzzle
was “cat’s cradle”
when no cat needs a cradle
each has her own
or can construct one
or help you make one
with materials at paw.
Now I know
any tangle of wool
or string could be
a cat’s cradle or
a cat’s obsession
or not
as she walks away.
Buds swell over winter’s tired vistas
drag horizons to trembling tonguetips
sing politic promises of warm pungent green
seduce skin, fur, feather and scale
startle and hush sky and footfall
stifle vision vista and vantage
tickle the soft hair on my arms
and count me in.
