The Alley
The black cat creeps through the alley in the dead of night
Careful not to wake the man slouched over, hiding under his wide-brimmed hat,
one hand tightly wound around the bottle disguised by a paper bag
She gently licks the drops around the mouth of the glass flask and tiptoes back,
leaving no trace of her presence
The sweet smelling incense behind the chain link fence entices her
The curandera smiles down at her while playing the tambourine and chanting at the
full moon
The night sings its song and the cat listens, the bass coming from the small house
with four walls, vibrating underneath her paws
She stops to lick them and scratch between her eyes
Her eyes glisten like bright green marbles and meet the eyes of the girl pressed up
against the shed with the Virgin Mary painted on it
The boy stomps his foot, making the cat jump and scurry away
The man walking with his daughter’s porcelain doll does not see her
He has plans
The cat sees all
She pounces on the little red ball surrounded by garbage,
quickly passing it from one paw to the next
She flips it upside down and holds it steady with all fours, playfully biting the rubber
She owns the alley and the night
Few make it to see the light of day, the vagabonds and cat’s surroundings constantly
changing
Her lithe shadow pays tribute to the same
The black cat creeps through the alley in the dead of night
Copyright © Giana Gallardo Hesterberg | Year Posted 2015
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