Tigger goes out for her evening piss, 
bird-bell tinkling like a baby-dolled 

Big Ben, though only the dumbest aves 
would be winging around under a Beaver 

Moon. An hour later no return, 
two, three, and four pass. We retire 

to the monkey calls of the local 
barred owl, ooohwah, ooohwah, ooohwah, 

safe that Tigger rarely leaves the yard. 
In the morning I find her huddled under 

the leafless fig tree, shivering but whole. 
Soft tabby fur warms my arms as I scoop 

her up. No blood nor broken bones, but she 
stays flaccid for days as we ponder the Vet. 

Day three and I pluck her from the bed 
wondering if we missed something? Parsing 

her thick lawn of brindled fur I locate 
two pus-filled talon strikes shaped like Ys, 

the local owl, which only confirms the most 
remarkable hurts always are the best hidden. 

Gary Grossman

enjoys sharing his work, which has appeared in 80+ literary journals and reviews. He enjoys running, music, fishing, and gardening. His poetry collections Objects in Mirror May Be Closer Than They Appear (Arroyo Seco Press, 2025), Lyrical Years (Kelsay Books, 2023), and What I Meant to Say Was... (Impspired Press, 2023), and his graphic memoir My Life in Fish: One Scientist’s Journey (Impspired Press, 2023) are all available from Amazon or from the author.

Author’s website: https://www.garygrossman.net/