Waters Under the Ice

The Crows rode the invisible wobbling top

In spiraling circles on the blue and white heavens

As they danced and played in the morning sun

They called out to one another in their familiar way,

Round and round uncaring of my lowly observation

Taunting and laughing at the curious little cat on the ground

The cat thought - how do they do that - If only I could – I would

Pacing back and forth, sitting with tail twitching, then running and jumping

Up as he climbed and pranced on top of the green ivy hedge and wall

Then without warning one of the crows swooped twice

Cawing and threatening the little predator as did the other from his perch

Frightening the cat so that he leapt down and ran to me with questioning eyes

Then darting along, he was out of sight, crouching and shaded, keeping vigil,

Peering out from underneath the car, puffed up, ghostlike, a shell-shocked soldier

While the black marauders sat like kings on the treetop, seeking treasure below

Later on that day, after laying down to rest, I spun round with the crows like clothes in a dryer

I became like the cat shrouded and hiding in a camouflage cloud of tormented sleep

Out of nowhere on the street a grey van approached, inside eyes watched menacingly

What had I done that I must flee away down under the cover of confusion and slumber

I sat deep in a foxhole trench watching and scooting away from the van, waiting for help

The man inside had seen me somehow and now the van had stopped in the inky silence

Then, I heard a sound, someone was walking on the roof as police helicopters growled and circled above

A part of me knew, inside of the fear and dream, that it was a raccoon up there crossing over the shingles

He was after some snails, slugs and the dried cat food that I’d left earlier on the table outside in the dark

The uneasy feeling would not leave me in peace however, and so I turned in the sheets like a corkscrew

Suddenly, the man from the van had entered the house, grunting and making noise in the other room

So I got up out of bed, put on my pants and shuffled blindly to have a look around the place and outside

But there was no one there and so I sat down in a reclining chair and slept – a restless unhappy sleep

After a while I awakened and ambled back to the bedroom feeling around, stepping through the black

Trying not to bump into anything or stub my toe, then I sank into the blankets, unconscious once more

Day arrived, the crows cawed, I went out into the cold fresh air, and damp yellow light, with a gray mind

My thoughts huddled together and pooled in the garden, where I found a large succulent that the raccoon had broken

I walked about listlessly until finding a good place and with shovel in hand, I replanted it in the front yard

Those mischievous crows and the masked thieving coons, captivating, mysterious roustabouts

Like pirates vs castaways, by sun they spy, flaunt and rob, or prowl creeping and stealing by night - invaders

With the helicopters they speak to us of feral fears and specters in the murky charcoal waters, under the purple ice of cobalt sky, moon and stars.