“Your two cats squat, heraldic sphinxes, with such”

Your two cats squat, heraldic sphinxes, with such

desert indifference, such “who-the-hell-are-you?” calm,

they rise and stride away leisurely from your touch,

waiting for you only. To be cradled in one arm,

belly turned upward to be stroked by a brush

tugging burrs from their fur, eyes slitted

in ecstacy. The January sun spreads its balm

on earth’s upturned belly, shadows that have always fitted

their shapes, re-fit them. Breakers spread welcome.

Accept it. Watch how spray will burst

like a cat scrambling up the side of a wall,

gripping, sliding, surrendering; how, at first,

its claws hook then slip with a quickening fall

to the lace-rocked foam. That is the heart, coming home,

trying to fasten on everything it moved from,

how salted things only increase its thirst.