The Watchers

By John I. Blair

One either side the kitchen sink,
Leaning over crusty dishes,
They stare,
Whiskers twitching.

They watch a goldfinch
And a squirrel
Share sunflower seed
From swaying feeders.

Neither cat can know
How flying feels,
What it means
To scrabble

Up a tree, chase
A mate, weave
A nest, care
For young.

Their days
Are circumscribed:
Food bowl, litter pan,
Bed, chair,

And windows
Where they watch,
Making needy cries
Deep, deep in their bodies.

©2008 John I. Blair