When they’re out of his fields, and the lone husky heart
of the cat-saint takes one in ,
look on a bit & wait. The two or three others, breathless
and tight-lipped (those cats of his!)
he can’t embrace because they are beyond Aleppo fields,
as much beyond as we are--
these, --I pray !--be always tomorrow's poor exigible ones
to twitch in one husky hand