Tracks that lead down from the sky
say there was a bobcat
pawing through the clouds
last night. Late afternoon he picked up on
a scent and followed
the sun until the moment Earth looks back
at what it has accomplished
in a day: the usual
arguments between ocean tides
and shores, bickering
over the rising cost of honesty, a shooting
authorized by authority
and the nuances
in law to justify the crime.
Come night the moon rides bareback
on the mountain ridge,
a cat is stripping
desert to its bones, by sunrise he’ll have
licked them till they shine.
.
David Chorlton
.