Mountain Lion Mania
Almost amber his fur almost
tan. So light his footfall
our new neighbor not
homeless since the forest
is his home. Our paths
have become his paths.
See the paw prints, the claws
that scratch. Feel that scratch.
Just a pussy cat with giant
jaws that crunch. Reminds me
of the crunch of bones
when my cat crunches mice.
How soft will his whiskers be
against my skin when he
leaps on me? How handsome
his tough muscles? Wish I
had his muscles while I ran hurdles
in high school, could effortlessly
glide hurdle to hurdle, and sky
over two at a time. How wide
his eyes when we meet eye
to eye? Wish I had a tail
like that to wag. Just a cat.
My biggest hurdle—how to tell
a purr from a growl.
John Davis
John Davis is the author of Gigs, Guard the Dead and The Reservist. His work has appeared in DMQ Review, Iron Horse Literary Review and Terrain.org. He lives on an island in the Salish Sea and performs in several bands.