THE SHORT FELINE DEATH OF WINGS

the night was cool enough for a woolly beanie

cats scratch and whine on the block paving 
nosing the weeds that push up sand and ants
and
sniffing under the thick hedge of thistles and red berries
for the 
smell
of the 
birds nesting deep and safe inside

and when the dark was gone
the greens lit up
luminous and amazing

freshly mixed artists paint - an absinthe drunks vision of Venus

the day became full and growling
and the night became a secret - a thing of long ago
a
forgotten
peace - because the day was full and growling
wearing down the earth
in shale and slices and surface oil
fighting over her new/old spaces
and
draining
her
food valleys
for dinosaur coal
and
young island men turned the surf
a vivid whale red

and one bird
black alone armless
is oblivious of the day full and growling
and
nods
and 
pecks
in a green gold field
of hacked
flaxen thatch
for
blind
worms