CAT DAZE

The clouds today
are swift chalk strokes
skipping across the faux
marble of a cerulean sky,
and I am typing, when the cat
that’s always in trouble
wobbles past me, wearing
a square tissue box
over her head, weaving
in a world that is suddenly
as murky as the ebony
gloss of a crow.
I twist the box from her neck,
and she gallops across
the hall, her ears
swimming with the slick
voice of mischief.
Later, interrupted again,
I turn toward an odd
thumping behind my chair,
where my youngest cat
slumps in the corner,
the tissue box planted
on his head, while he bangs
against the wall, a prisoner
in a cardboard cage
as opaque as the petals
of a black pansy.
I remove the box, and he rolls
on the floor, a pilgrim
happy to be free, as relieved
as any of us when we emerge
from our wanderings
in the sunless valley
to embrace the glorious
leaf-shine of the light.

(first appeared in Autumn Leaves)