A little backyard melodrama of recent development.
between cats and kestrels
the kestrel perches on the poplar
to survey the stream
and regally scans the embankment.
the fat black and white barn cat is poised
noiseless on the stony hill
patiently biding her sovereign time.
the field mice, with their tawny winter fur,
are hiding… if they are smart.
death simply waits for an opening.
the cat knows she could kill the whole damn world,
if she only had the chance!
the bird knows his limits of skill and strength.
each hunter feigns to ignore the other –
professionals often do –
barely masking the disdain between them.
