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This poem is taken from PN Review 58, Volume 14 Number 2, November - December 1987.

Three Cats in California Alistair Elliot
 
These cats watch me - here comes company -
As I emerge
Dragging a cushion, sniffing an orange,
On to my wooden balcony.
To them I'm more remarkable
Than the sun hobbling up over the ridge is,
Grasping redwoods like spears or crutches,
Till suddenly as good as new
It vaults into the air - and does not fall.

The salted world's still sweating dew.
A bobcat slopes off through the loaded grasses.
The huge green wafer steams with morning scent.
Nothing distracts these three from what they want:
Pure attention, and maybe some caresses.
Has word got round that I can speak
Their language? But I growl:
...


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