A tree scraped like fingers                                                     
across the side of my house.                                                    
The cat stirred, restless,                                                      
chirping in his gray sleep.                                                     
Moonsilver, reflected in 
ice-covered branches,                                               
sparked through my skylight                                                     
as the wind-blown limbs                                                         
scraped north, settled back,                                                    
scraped north, settled back,                                                    
again and again,                                                                
shifting like a sleeper                                                         
and flashing like the eyes                                                      
of a restless cat.                                                              
                                                                                
  2/16/2007 

Return to the Table of Contents.