FRIDAY: Ready, Or Not

Poetry Week 2023 Runner-up

BY JEANNE BLUM LESINSKI

Copyright is held by the author.


When I first met Ready, he was a stray,
inviting himself into any house with door ajar.
Once when he tried to claim Steven’s bungalow,
the resident foxlike papillon Magglio cowered
in a corner until his owner came — rescue!

In the neighborhood, I learned to know
this confident creature’s tabbiness:
grey, black, and tan stripes,
keen eyes the color of celery leaves,
sand underbelly and ever-ready claws.


Sand underbelly and ever-ready claws
sprang from shrubs and underbrush,
but the neighbourhood squirrels had sass,
easy when running along power lines,
or from sycamore branches thirty feet above,
scurrying down a trunk to a sidewalk,
chittering tease at Magglio to chase. Nah.
On the porch steps we sat side by side,
watching the performance, creeping hunt,
snatch the catch from behind, trot away.


Snatch the catch from behind, trot away
to the home of his naming. At first nameless,
he found his official home and moniker.

One afternoon at the gray Victorian
on the corner when Quinn motioned
to her pack of dogs (one large, two small),

“Yer ready to go in?” Yer Ready did.
Not a Greek name as I first thought:
Euripedes? Yer Ready? Ready? or not.

Everyone called him by a different name.

4
Everyone called him by a different name:
To Chummy and Ric in the rust Victorian,
lounged by a magic garden koi pond,
pergola, and statuary immersed in flowers,
overlooked by aged maples, Ready was Tigger.

At the back porch living room with wicker sofas,
chairs with paisley cushions, pillows, throws, 
tables with embroidered clothes and lamps,
fresh flower bouquets — even a small, crated TV —
he was always welcome to kibble and cool water.

5
He was always welcome to kibble and cool water, 
even when the garden gate was closed.
Tigger leapt to the top of the stockade fence,
surveyed the garden and its inhabitants
–– chickens, peacocks, a medium-sized, white
pointy-nosed, mixed-breed dog called Brie ––
before leaping down to the pea gravel walk
and sauntering up to visit on the porch,
settling on a cushion of a dark wicker loveseat —
this outdoors cat who reigned like a prince.

6
This outdoors cat who reigned like a prince,
hopped the fence to my vegetable garden side,

greeted me with meows and a pretend bite,
and one day headed down the backyard hill,

disappeared into the disarray of tall weeds,
haphazard tree branches, fallen ash trunk.

He slunk his way down from the stump,
springing suddenly near the bottom.

Clasping a wriggling mouse treat; 
pleased, he emerged from the weeds.

7
Pleased, he emerged from the weeds,
hurried across the yard to the sidewalk,
looked both ways before crossing the street,
then bounded up the front steps at Quinn’s,
disappeared through the open, side window.

In his territory he knew the houses and their people,
cavorted with the ghost of Susie Hill at the Red Dragon,
once knocked over a DIY restoration project, shooting
out the front door to earn another name — Silly —
from the homeowners and their children.

8
From the homeowners and their children,
and me — gardener down the block — he drew life,
trained us too in his language and his ways,
his stays and goings, his hunting forays,
until we knew him outside and in, Ready, or not.

One evening as he and I sat on the porch stoop,
watching the lightning bugs and garden lamps blink on,
the bats flutter by on their route right on time,
until the mosquitoes chased me out — slap!
we shared a nameless purr of animal joy.

9
When I first met Ready, he was a stray:
sand underbelly and ever-ready claws,
snatch the catch from behind, trot away.

Everyone called him by a different name.
He was always welcome to kibble and cool water, 
this outdoors cat who reigned like a prince.

Pleased, he emerged from the weeds.
With the homeowners and their children,
we shared a nameless purr of animal joy.

Ready or not.

***

Image of Jeanne Blum Lesinski, smiling, wearing glasses, with short hair.

Jeanne Blum Lesinski is an author of nonfiction and poetry whose works have appeared in journals, lifestyle and gardening magazines, anthologies, and online. Her poetry collection Tethers End is forthcoming from Shanti Arts. When not at her computer, she can often be found on a bicycle path, in a garden, or on a photo safari. She is Jeanne Blum Lesinski on Facebook and Instagram. Her author website is a work-in-progress, yet in the meantime she invites readers to visit Jeannemlesinski.journoportfolio.com.