.
Street cat, Morocco: photo by Albert Jacob, 18 November 2008
About 2 feet from the curb, in the street
a cat was crouched. From afar I thought
it was sniffing, but as I got closer
I knew. It was looking down at the ground,
looking at eternity, breathing,
its head down like a disappointment.
It was only a cat,
dirty, black and white, solid
as a wooden beam, not underfed.
Cars swerved left. I picked it up,
this lump of breath.
What is the noble truth of death? Blindness
turned inward to endless seas
as the struggle ebbs far away.
a cat was crouched. From afar I thought
it was sniffing, but as I got closer
I knew. It was looking down at the ground,
looking at eternity, breathing,
its head down like a disappointment.
It was only a cat,
dirty, black and white, solid
as a wooden beam, not underfed.
Cars swerved left. I picked it up,
this lump of breath.
What is the noble truth of death? Blindness
turned inward to endless seas
as the struggle ebbs far away.
Joseph Ceravolo (1934-1988): Cat of Eternity (February 25, 1987), from Mad Angels (poems 1976-1988), in Collected Poems, 2013
Cat, Morocco: photo by Albert Jacob, 20 January 2013
Street cat, Morocco: photo by Sallyrango (Sally Walton), 7 October 2012