a cat sits on a weigh-bridge by a river
where turbines make waves high enough
to surf, and there is a 'Conservation Island'
over to which cars are scarcely ferried -
I think the cat is looking to go across
but knowing no ride will come, contents herself
with what's inside the concrete, coarseness, heat
how it warms her, scratches her itch
registers no numbers for her size -
not until some others take an interest
can I catch the ferry back, can I go to her
then return to 'Conservation Island' together
but in both directions, the highways
once passages for electrical towers through the forest
promise nobody - lead nowhere but away -
how long it's going to be before a car comes
I can't say, and even then she may react
skittishly, break my heart by scampering
into one of the other riverfront houses that feed her.
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