by Sarah Thursday
paws up in body fling.
Her victim lies heavy and low.
She is weightless and intent—aim.
There is no hesitation in her bound,
no think—no worry of outcome, only leap.
Only arch over. She is absent
of knowing words like pain,
like regret, like sorrow.
She is arm-swaddled
All her falls have led to opportunity—so she leaps.
Each claw slightly spread from the other.
She wills her hind end to carry her
attack up. It will arrive
eventually. That need
to weigh consequences.
Until then, she leaps.
* * * * *
Sarah Thursday, in addition to writing poetry, co-hosted 2nd Mondays Poetry Party, ran a poetry website called CadenceCollective.net, and founded Sadie Girl Press as a way to help publish local and emerging poets and artists. She has been published in many fine journals and anthologies, interviewed by Poetry LA, and received a 2017 Best of the Net nomination for “To the Men who told me my Love was not enough.” Her newest poetry book, Conversations with Gravel, is available at SadieGirlPress.com. Find and follow her to learn more on SarahThursday.com, Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram.