Black Cat
Thought is like that: a step
barefoot on the back
deck. No moon but light
entombed in cloud. A shape
drops from the fencepost.
Something in the dark makes
sense to you now. A cat
you cannot be sure is black
flickers across the yard.
It’s like looking for your glasses.
All you can do is reach
into a possible place, the nightstand,
or the living room rug,
until the blind hand sees a sprig.