Before the Dawn
The cat stays the colour of night.
His whiskers exquisite; his purr
blent with divine harmonics.
Of course such cats are gods.
The new day could not help herself,
she is born pallid. She could not hold on
to her own black. She is quiet enough,
but has cried her own song to the night.
The alarm peeps, a bird with no mother,
pleading for worms. My mind’s striated
with the drag of heavy hours. Maybe today
will glint silver, and I and the cat
will blink at our fate. Maybe today
the rain will make everything shine.
The cat’s fur stays the colour of night,
his eyes an intuitive gold.
- Sarah Law 2016
Sarah Law’s latest collection is Ink’s Wish (Gatehouse Press, 2014). She is a lecturer in English and lives in London.