THE TOWN the town with its mildly hilly north side its flat and flood prone south and all its tired crossroads which the sun passes through every day tidy angles of light changing calmly minute to minute everything is a system the mayor proclaims even what I am not telling you by telling you that a cat gray broad headed scarred from fights has wandered behind the license branch on his way to his favorite trash can favorite not so much for the trash as for the rats he sees the sun and thinks ha! you have one but I have two yellow eyes the grocer in his long white apron is the only one listening to the mayor but really he is waiting for him to move so he can sweep there too farmers and their wives are coming in from all directions bearing broken machinery and shopping lists everyone must get busy an old lady across the alley from the cat's favorite trash looks at him over her back yard from her seat on her back porch things have changed the songs she knows best no one sings out loud anymore they hum them now as if ashamed to be heard a little whisper of song works to speed memory which is slow and stiff and gets stuck in one place that cat thinks he's so quick and always will be she says to herself but I have far more years than him and I know what he doesn't
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