Last night when merlin lay curled on

Last Night, When Merlin Lay Curled On The Rug, Twitching
Claws And Ears In Memory Of Some Sparrow,
I Adjusted The Quilt, Sighed.
Merlin Opened An Eye, Saw It Was Only Me, And Walked
To Nibble On A Dish Of Mackeral…Then Lay By The Fire
Too Softly, Ignoring The Windows Too Innocently.
Each Dusk, I Closed The Flowered Curtains To Keep
Treetop Shadows Out Of Merlin’s Eyes.
But In The Mornings, Robins Scouted The Yard…And
Merlin’s Whiskers Quivered Against The Screen.
Last Night, I Picked Merlin From The Rug, Scratched His
Chin, Ears, And Whispered Acres Of Woods And Dripping
Perch Years From The City.
Insensitive Drivers Kept The Door Locked…And Children
Who Liked Black Cats…And City Toms Who Fought Their
Early This Morning, Before The World Flamed Again, A
Scratchy Noise And Padded Steps Crept Into My Mind.
I Knew The Torn Screen Behind That Window Kept A Particle
Of Merlin’s Fur For Me When I Fully Awoke.
A Particle Of Fur From That Window That Only Merlin
Knows Why I Opened Sometime Last Night