Tag Archives: cats

The black cat crouches at the edge...

By Dave Bonta | Published June 4, 2009 at 8:30 am

The black cat crouches at the edge of the meadow full of dame’s-rocket. What hides, squirmed into grassy burrows, under all that purple?

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Beside the rosette of mullein leaves...

By Dave Bonta | Published April 14, 2009 at 9:10 am

Beside the rosette of mullein leaves like thumbless felt mittens beaded with rainwater, the feral cat pauses to yowl.

 

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Twenty minutes after the feral cat...

By Dave Bonta | Published April 10, 2009 at 8:57 am

Twenty minutes after the feral cat disappeared under the porch, the squirrel still scolds. Rain is a soft patter of lead shot—or so I wish.

 

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Clear and cold at sunrise. The feral...

By Dave Bonta | Published March 13, 2009 at 7:47 am

Clear and cold at sunrise. The feral cat slinks across the springhouse meadow. Muffled sounds of a squirrel scolding from inside its drey.

 

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Under the cover of high winds, the...

By Dave Bonta | Published November 16, 2008 at 8:46 am

Under the cover of high winds, the feral cat goes hunting without setting off the usual alarms. Airborne oak leaves ascend into the clouds.

 

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The feral cat is back from wherever...

By Dave Bonta | Published April 3, 2008 at 8:53 am

The feral cat is back from wherever it goes for the winter. It crouches on a fallen limb, eyes fixed on the weeds, gathered for the spring.

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Wind. No birds, no squirrels, no highway...

By Dave Bonta | Published January 9, 2008 at 12:15 pm

Wind. No birds, no squirrels, no highway or railroad noise; just wind. And the feral cat, looking for breakfast in every swaying covert.

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