kids bike in the cul-de-sac riding last year's outgrown bicycles
knees nearly hitting the handlebars
with low tires and creaking chains
have yet to find their helmets.
neighbor cats emerge and gather
orange and white, collared cat on the path between house and shed
locked in a stare-down with our tuxedo, guarding her sunny deck
twin tuxedo shows up now and then, mostly when ours is sleeping
I mistakenly open the door to call it in and it scurries away.
poufy white and orange cat sees me in the window
begins to slink away, as if holding its wide belly lower to the ground will fool me
"i was just leaving."
they converge, some days, in this wild back yard
among wood piles and rock stacks, compost and brown leaves
I imagine they're drawn to the wildness
the hiding places, sunny napping spots
the absence of dogs or children on outgrown bicycles.