Small Town Cats

When the cats found the tuft of grass lining
the border, they crossed it to get to the city.
On their first few nights in the city, they could not sleep.
The lights were never turned off. The siren sounds
of ambulances and police cars went on and on.
Dead bodies were dumped on the alleys,
where they rested their paws
and licked their small-town fur clean.
The city people howled all day and fought all night,
gambled by midmorning and killed themselves by noon.
How every thing moved:
the children poked at their whiskers,
the homeless kicked them against the walls,
and the street gang leaders ripped their ears
to pledge allegiance to the fold.
One year later, their claws grated against the glass.
They made enough noise to wake the sleeping
small town people to let them in. At the end
of the day, their bowls were filled with fresh milk.