Ouroboros
A Poem by Katherine Swett
Woodpecker strikes the tree again, against the brown a black cloud; loud taps strike the crumbling bark, arc of sky is dark with shadows. Dozing on the bed my cat twitches swishes his tail and stretches his legs. Eggs in the nest are now hatchlings; slinking by, do you long to escape? Capable of all things good and bad, Adventurous, secretive clean, leaning towards the fluttering phoebe, benignly rubbing our scratched bare knees, easing towards the door, the wood would you like to go out? You would.
Cat and Bird, Paul Klee, 1928
 | A guest post by
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I understand the title, how the cat
shows where it's at not by brushing
with that prime canine organ the damp nose
rushing after the scent but by the drag
of the erect tail's flag across our barest part
with a toss that's nothing like a wag
but strums as if they were indifferent things
the strings of what might almost be our heart