Black Cat (5/11/90)

Black cat creeping onto my porch
And startling me, dusky specter
Sidling up by my chair, you curl
Around my feet softly mewing.
But you are no ordinary black cat
With your concave flanks
And your cloudy cataract eye.
Your tattered ears tell of
Battles over mates and turfs
Fought under moonlit skies
And inky skies strewn with stars
That glitter like shards of glass
That litter the blacktop streets
Over which you stray.

Strange that one such as you,
Scarred and torn by battle,
Left looking fierce and rancorous,
Should be so gentle, almost meek.
Old boxers sometimes attain
This state of grace; after a life
Of meting out and absorbing
Mankind's murderous bile they slide
Into a stuporous serenity
All venom pummeled out of them,
Anger spent, almost defenseless,
Dependent on the kindness
Of those for whom they've bled.

And so black cat it's come to this,
No longer able to tear into flesh and bone,
You haunt the backdoors of my streets
Seeking charity, a silent shadow
Slowly slinking to and fro
Your voice a faint whisper,
Telling your tale to all who will listen.