what she knows

what she knows


wayfaring seed
of the wayfarer
rested here
on the way to
some new earth
took root for
better or worse
in against the brick
a bush that houses
Little Cat the
pocket map
of tiger.
here behind
the grass
what does
Little Cat
the thread of
cool that runs
along that
painted brick out
of the glaring
summer sky,
the things
she counts out
the leaves and
leaf shadow
like tabby mottle
over her,
the hop of bird,
in sight,
the fumbled
pebble crawl
of beetle, the
ragged battering
wing of white
butterfly tossing
its talcum dust
against leaf
and web,
the soil’s warmth
under paw, the
dry grass scratched
across her view
grass that frames her
face like a pastel vision
of Odilon Redon
floating through
its wreath.
the clouds that
are hardly there
a milk spilt
down the sky
and dried
Little Cat
stays to know
these things her
given right,
the directions
of her senses
given in
that pocket
map of
she carries
in her
purse of

march 2019

Copyright ©2019 Peter Le Baige.  All Rights Reserved

With acknowledgements to Landfall 238 where this piece was first published.



2 thoughts on “what she knows”

  1. Hi Dean, many thanks for coming by. The impetus for that phrase was reading that the 95.6% of the genes of the domestic cat imitate those of the tiger: In that sense the cat is literally a ‘map’ of the larger version of itself, and I always loved those essential ‘pocket maps’ for travellers; have kept my ‘pocket map of Athens’ for 37 years now! I’m glad you liked that.


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