in memoriam May Swenson

it was something unearthly
                                                                                  how her head
always appeared 
                                                                                  to shine
glowing with light
                                                                                  as if haloed

                                                                   
                                                                                  wild creatures sometimes
with their alert
                                                                                  goodnatured eyes
looking over
                                                                                  the rims of nests
of pinecones feathers bones


                                                                                  or popping up
from holes in sheared lawns
                                                                                  to the despair
of some
                                                                                  the delight
of many


have heads like that
                                                                                  a cap of smooth
fur that catches the
                                                                                  light


and just when you can
                                                                                  no longer resist
reaching out
                                                                                  to pet
if not possess

with a playful 
                                                                                 whisk of a tail
and the wink
                                                                                 of an eye


they’re gone