by KELLY ALSUP
Not coffee but bobcat. Lynx rufus californicus. I saw it, a chubbier,
fluffier one than of summer. And when I say chubby, I really mean
squat. And full. Full of fur like our Lynx Point Siamese cat. Squat as
in not so much living its litheness as slinking through life with this
It paused within fifty feet of the chickens. Its posture upon being
spotted was squatting, which means it watched us before we saw it
perusing its diurnal options. Then back-padding, down toward coastal
scrub and a raucous ocean. And hopefully a rabbit, and a cozy rock
crevice or hole in the Monterey cypress.
KELLY ALSUP is a graduate of the University of Oregon and Naropa University’s Jack Kerouac School. She works from coastal California where she gardens, teaches, swims, paddles, and prowls sunshine. Her writing can be found in Bombay Gin, Buddhist Poetry Review, and Inverness Almanac.