staring at me     two twelve-toed leopards     one striped
one spotted      hunkered     under the hull of an up-turned
dory      their unblinking amber cat eyes     watch

for signs of night-danger      yet suspicion is contagious
why are they here      and what do they want
why two      most leopards are     solitary     as am I

and overhead     the waxing moon     keeps on reminding 
again      then again     I don’t need to be whole     to shine 
still     the shine I see is     four amber eyes      and the cats

are strange now     have only     one body     but two 
heads      and are covered     not in fur      but in calico
are they waiting      not for me      but for a gingham dog

no      it must be     the owl     and they wish to set out 
in his pea-green boat    is this     what happens      when I 
or anyone       mistrusts     reality      why today at daybreak

 the mirror showed me     thirty-three      yet now     tonight
a mirrored lake       reflects me      as if I am old
and the owl has flown      to zap vole or songbirds

so I flip the dory       but find no leopards      only clawprints
and not     my younger self either       as I oar alone  
through the pooling-light.    the moon      no       not the moon 

but my dead father      who taught me     to write and row
keeps saying     Leftie      whatever you do     keep on trying to shine