Traveling Cat Poem by Hans Ostrom

He was a traveling cat. He raced

and slunk, padded and trotted, sleek

and balanced, tendons full of

future speed.He moved soundlessly

but for a hiss or a yowl now

and then, or a crazy crash,

never his fault. Yes,a



questing cat, moving from this to

that, from at to at, detecting

motion, smooth as lotion, reading

air, decoding sounds from

everywhere. Itinerant and



cool, self-possessed and freely

feline- leonine, nined up with lives,

purring worries, cagey but uncaged,

guileless and wise.Green eyes.