Poetry |

“Watching”

Watching

 

 

Looking down, the cat paced

tight circles on the beach,

sniffing sand and rocks.

 

In late afternoon light

its fur shone

like amber.

 

When it entered

the shallows,

it kept circling.

 

When a wave hit —

it shook its head,

biting the air.

 

When two swans passed by,

they looked whiter

than usual.

 

My wife said it is trying to die.

 

I didn’t know

what to do — it was wild.

I just watched.

 

That night a rescue copter kept circling

the bay, rumbling, aiming its cone of light.

I couldn’t tell what for.

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