Oh, silent be; it is the cat.


Oh, silent be; it is the breeze…
swept chill…brushed down the stairs
from open bedroom windows at this time of day
when house heat flutters inside curtains toward the night…
when cold presses down the chimney…draws
through attic venting where life is cardboard boxed
and stored with high chair stroller crutches walker

Oh, silent be; it is the bat…
that swims through air to dart twist snatch
the glow from lightning bugs… whine from anopheles.
I watch them stitch the sky, these thin winged mice that
echo sweep abrupt to flit…flit for a shoulder neck vein
hot blood sip from pasture cows so stoic in their
quiet pillaging.

Oh, silent be; it is the cat…
there on my evening sill it blurs gray smolder,  perhaps
brain drowned in sweet apricot memory of mouse
flesh…tooth slivered warm into its mouth.  I would
not disturb it now from this imagined reverie…and I
wonder…wonder if it hears his distant brother owl or
senses change of pressure in this house.

Bonnie Marshall

Photographer Unknown

17 thoughts on “Oh, silent be; it is the cat.

  1. Oh, a delight to read…each word painstakingly chosen ,each syllable adding to the beauty of this. Favorite line: :”these thin winged mice that echo sweep abrupt to flit”.

  2. A quiet, sure-footed masterpiece, Bonnie; I often believe you to pick up singing, as a poet and a woman, where Frost, as a rural man, left off.

    1. Grateful thank you, generous Andrew. Very. The voicing is fun and necessary if I’m going to hear glitches…and I’m hopeful readers sense I’m speaking to them…as poetry should be. Smiles.

  3. Reblogged this on Andrew's View of the Week and commented:
    I’ve been thinking of adding a “Friday Reblog” section to Andrew’s View of the Week to highlight posts that I found interesting or moving. Well, today I found a great one. Please listen to this poem, Bonnie is rapidly becoming one of my favorite poets.

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