Urban Wildlife
I didn’t think pearl clutching
was still a thing–until
a neighbor, I know only slightly,
dressed in her Sunday best,
click clack click clacked down my sidewalk,
clutching her ocean treasures,
in tears because the big orange cat–
who lives next door to me, who honors me
by making sure the moles and voles
don’t create a mass transit system
in my front and backyard, who prevents mice
from finding the tiny hole in back of my oven,
and scurrying all over the blue kitchen countertop,
who keeps the catnip in the garden from spreading–
has raided the rabbit nest under her river birches,
in broad daylight,
pranced proudly down the street,
a sleepy baby bunny hanging from its mouth,
which the cat then tosses into a row of hostas,
in order to begin a game of hide and seek
on only the cat’s terms and. now
there are only 2 tiny vulnerable bunnies left–
and on Easter Sunday, no less–
I am speechless,
continue to water the azaleas,
hot pink and white popping up all over.
I have no sympathy.
Until–
she says:
First thing Monday morning I am calling the city!
6 thoughts on "Urban Wildlife"
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Love the precision of your words and how they tell the story
Thanks! It sure begins my day like a cup of coffee—that someone read my poem and liked it☕️☕️
I laughed out loud at the line about calling the city. I live on an abandoned golf course and many of our neighbors are clutching their pears about the fact that wildlife exists in the greenspace.
The plot thickens—the lady actually asked them to keep cat inside! They are so distraught that she will take them to court—another neighbor did!!!!—that they are trying to train the cat to stay within an invisible fence!!!! It is about to become us against them—drama on Top Hill rd!
The orange cat gives protagonist energy! Im glad you’re his ally!
😻