A black cat almost crossed my path yesterday as I walked along almost spring streets.
It saw me coming, took a left, trotting a path ahead and parallel to mine, looking back to see if I were still there, moving forward.
With a last look back, it skittered under a car and watched me pass.
I wrote the following a decade ago while on a weekend writing retreat.
Sometimes life
like a labyrinth,
leads you where you have to go.
You think you make choices–
this man or that,
some child or not.
You set your alarm,
choose your shoes,
gather friends for tea,
count your changes.
Until one day a corner comes,
slipping you a glimpse
of those strings of stones
shaping your shadows edge.
And sometimes, perhaps,
on a perfect day,
under a perfect sky,
a perfect black cat
with eyes like glowing stones
races across your path
and waits in the early ferns
for you to cross hers.
A very nice poem. I and my two black cats love it.