The pawing stretch of leap
space between up spring
down land and falling onwards –
but falling with such deliberate feet
such impertinence to gravity
that even the air believes it.
One cat pounce-fling
the wings of the wind
all in mico-ounces the weight of
the uncaught mouse
is the hup of tail out
and flinging the body
one breath at a time.
Have you seen how cats don’t trip
never miss their leg or stumble
the way the word might on its linea momentum
between me and you?
How, if they know our voices they do not care,
or trust, or know either of those words.
For them the world is as certain as the landing ledge
the solid roof or rail or gutter that lends to them