Putting the cats out into April

These creatures seem to see the underside
of shadows. Staring where
they sphinxed the terrace, eyes that saw
down Pharaoh’s alleys watched the darkness slide
across the kerbing and then pour
down gutters. I suppose I took a different view
of shadows then, believing
that the night they lay around in was as still
as ashcans and as clear as stars until
I noticed that the air
was hard again and that I saw my breathing
for the first time since September. Now I wonder
what other moving things those night-eyes saw
apart from shadows running out from under
ashcans and then flowing on below
their little Luxor by the terrace wall.
Perhaps they also saw a season leaving
and, like me, were loath to watch it go –
disappearing round the corner of the year.

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