Lying by the median, the Seal Point
Siamese cat’s fawn-colored fur ruffled.
Was it wind produced by rush hour traffic?
When we lived in the Mark Twain National
Forest my husband called me One Who Sees
Animals for the times I named the presence
of deer, fox, rabbits, hawks—once
a tarantula—before they appeared.
But in this city, dozens cross each day.
There’s a no U-turn sign at the stoplight, no
breakdown lane. I could park on a side street,
dodge cars, clutch the dying cat dart back.
A man in a red van keeps honking.
I signal left on South Lone Pine.
Jules Jacob is the author of Kingdom of Glass & Seed (Lily Poetry Review Books, 2023) and The Glass Sponge (FLP) and co-author of Rappaccini’s Garden (White Stag Press, 2023). Her poems are featured in Plume, Rust + Moth, The Westchester Review, Glass Poetry, Lily Poetry Review, and elsewhere. Visit her at julesjacob.com.