Ode to Cybele

We were happy together
that late summer afternoon
and early evening----
she on the grass,
front paws crossed
in her customary style---
I on a garden chair.

She had made it across
the rough gravel
on a bridge of cardboard
I'd made for her
to the soft lawn
and was content and alert--
to a plane overhead,
a car driving up the road,
the no-see-ums
she snapped at fiercely.

I drank and wept,
cherishing this day with her.
She was in the now,
I, somewhat further on.
I could hardly get enough
of her beauty, her grace,
this being in this Universe
with me so many years.
Now she is everywhere.


... Barbara Wolf
... May, 2009