Forgive the intrusion;
this chance encounter,
such great, good fortune…
Dark eyes stare, fixedly, unblinking.
Legends say your Ancestor
fought the Sun, demanded
decreased heat & light, & won…
Long ears twitch & hinge & pivot.
That four spots on your cinnamon fur –
on each hind leg, behind each ear –
mark that ancient victory…
Rear leg stretches, scuffs base of ear.
Myth says, too, you are companion
to the Moon, your likeness pressed
upon her, silver-gray…
Whiskers flick, nostrils flare.
Well suited, as you may need,
to contraction or release,
is your sleek musculature & economy of form…
Wide yawn precedes a full-length sprawl
beneath the bronze-green hedge.
Mischief contradiction of creativity,
you hide in plain sight, unseen,
a duality of self, at ease…
Folds front paws, rests chin;
The dish in hand slopes water;
place it, eddying, on shorn grass.
The moment of connection,
of trust & recognition
— C.Birde, 10/21