The new cat’s tail twitches against the sill
while Sherry stares at whiteboards smeared with notes.
Sunshine disappears, and the pines grow still.
Pain-hampered fingers stumble to fulfill
words promised to a friend. Ignoring quotes,
the new cat’s tail twitches against the sill
in time to the frogs singing in the chill
falling on the driveway. Shouldering a tote,
sunshine disappears, and the pines grow still.
Sherry seizes an idea, distills
the essence of an arcane anecdote,
and the cat’s tail twitches against the sill.
The cat eyes something dim it wants to kill,
chirps and waggles her tush. The dim just gloats
and disappears into the pines, growing still.
Breezy spirits push through the pines like krill,
some snagging on pins; lucky ones float
away. A tail twitches against the sill
as time disappears, and the pines grow still.
—
Todd C. Truffin is a poet, teacher, and gustatory stimulator living in the Piedmont of North Carolina. His works have appeared in St. Katherine Review, Pilgrimage, Barstow & Grand, and the award-winning collection O! Relentless Death! Celebrity, Loss & Mourning.
