A clowder of cats patrol the street. The Mayor of Seventeenth, ginger cream matriarch, perches on still-warm car hoods and sunlit steps, presiding over daily paths. Slow to anger, detached, purring down judgement on all who pass. She decides when and where her office hours are.
The Ambassador requires attention, harasses humans through doors and windows, demanding to be let in. She knows all, visits all, entwines ankles alike. Back yard to front porch in seconds, she’ll get through any opened door. Quick! Up the stairs, into the bedroom, there’s now a cat in the house. Loud-voiced, gregarious, belly up for skritches!
Sibling Silent Spy sits and leaps, dappled sunlight through firs and figs camouflages short tuxedoed fur. Gravity does not defy Silence. From fence tops and trees, to gables and second-story balconies, The Spy balances, always there, yet never to be touched, never within reach.
“Mrwowr!” through the window,
“Human! Let me in! I am
not afraid of the dog.”
Today’s challenge from napowrimo.net:
write a haibun that takes in the natural landscape of the place you live. It may be the high sierra, dusty plains, lush rainforest, or a suburbia of tiny, identical houses – but wherever you live, here’s your chance to bring it to life through the charming mix-and-match methodology of haibun.
Nora’s note: a haibun is a Japanese prose poem of place combined with a (traditionally) closing haiku.