A Commuter's Vision
The arterial road from the County's Eastern Provinces
Lands me on the last-but-one roundabout before home.
Drawing up to the give-way lines, dropping to first,
Waiting for the a burst of traffic to pass, a mottled cat slinks
To the edge of the mown round's edge, hunting
A scuttling object hemmed in by orbiting cars.
They are driven along the concrete verge
By circling cars innocuously signalling right,
Hemming the hunt-play tight to the edge:
The mouse is on the lookout for an escape gutter
While the cat lazily paws at his ragged tail.
I join the dance on the junction, crawling in second,
To watch it play out in my wing-mirror.
A gap between traffic signals the mouse to run
Off the island - an escape cut short when
The speeding youth's Corsa moulds him
Permanently to pavement. The cat rolls her shoulders,
The game over, and treads out to lick the puddle
Of blood before a truck catches her grounded tail
And drags her under, fixing her fleeing
Form in a cartoonish pose ahead of
The flattened mouse.
Henry Bew, 2012