When the panther came

    no belfrey rang alarums，

    no cleric spat¹ his tea.

    When the panther came

    the sky and lawn were still.

    The panter came

    through forest，

    through field，

    up to the wall

    and my one blossoming cherry tree.

    I had constructed

    the world as it was

    and had pared the body

    from the customs of languor².

    It pressed its nose against the pane³ and its gears

    ground me away into ribbons

    of dissonance.

    It turned and sauntered

    into the shadows. Its

    paw marks on the earth

    like cherries too ripe in a white bowl.