Reading the yard

Sitting here, behind the window, 

A sick and sedated cat sleeping on my lap, 

I look out, through the reflections, 

At the gray of clouds, the tawny grass, 

The lavender, the Buddha, 

 And the sea that lies beyond 

 The shrub-infested cliff 

As a squirrel creeps by, pausing at every step 

To scrabble at the lawn and then sit up, 

White belly flashing as he nibbles 

What’s been found 

Until another squirrel streaks across the yard 

With some urgent message 

And the two of them speed off into the bushes, 

Tails lifted, flying in the breeze. 

Who needs a book? I’m reading the yard today.