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Cat

Before her hip gave out,
my cat used to make
a mad dash from one
end of the house to the
other, as if some invisible
dog were snapping at her
heels.

It would begin in the bedroom,
where two hours of lying
in a warm square of sunlight
would break in a sudden panic,
as if she had just remembered
that the stove was left on
or the garage door wide open,
and she would gallop out the
bedroom door, leap at the threshhold
and land, drifting like a street racer,
through the hardwood curve of the
living room.

Where her flight ended,
I’ve never known, but moments
later, she would rush back,
flop into the square of light,
and sleep, feline heart fluttering.

This poem was originally published under the pen name Gabriel Gadfly.
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