print previewback TALVIKKI ANSEL
Somewhere in Space
[She is back . . . ]
She is back, the one-eyed cat, trapped
vetted, released, denizen of the woodpile
and crawl space, garden beds warm from sun. Attrition
of fall the garden thins out, a few cats
return to snooze in the chives, under the apple.
Some have disappeared though I call
and call and watch at dusk.
The child says: “I buried a beetle yesterday,”
on how long a dragonfly lives; me: “a day.”
Child: “No! a year.”
“How do you know, well, some insects only live
a day . . .” but in the book of dragon and damsel flies,
sure enough: a year.
A feral cat lives 1 to 3 years, a house cat
more than 12. In my dream a dark-furred cat
appears, arching its back
sore-covered, surprisingly tame.