Eine kleine Catmusik

The magnolia rustles a little, a lot,
and a little again. Next, the cries.
It’s a baby, I used to suppose. But it’s not.
It’s Queen Cat and her summoning sighs.

Yee-ow-wow! Yee-ow-wow! Rustle-rustle, the leaves,
as she arches and calls for a male,
serenading in crotchets and slick semibreves
as she lifts (rustle-rustle) her tail.

Yee-ow-wow, yee-ow-wow! He approaches her lair.
Rustle. Nuzzle. Mee-yow! She approves.
Rustle-rustle. The mount. Sss-sss-narl, backwards glare
as he bites her neck, gets in her grooves.

Rustle-rustle! The leaves are crescendo-ing now
in the still of the midsummer night,
there’s a final triumphant yee-ow-wow-wow-wow!
then a hisssss! and she’s off, sleek and slight.