Longing for Predation

by John MacBeath Watkins

I watch my cats, who are watching a bird
ascending in the airway between the bricks
where I have an alley view through
the screen window that looks out
on the Dumpsters, and the crows who
mind their garbage, and sometimes
ascend like disheveled angels in the view
of cats who dream of feathers between their teeth
longing for predation like unrequited love.

And I love their wild desire
And I love their dreaming loss
And I love the way their ears stand up
And their sleek and furry gloss.


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