When the panther came

    no belfrey rang alarums，

    no cleric spat 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 languor.

    It pressed its nose against the pane 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.