My cat listens to the radio.

It seems to me she prefers Chopin,

But then the program changed,

And banjos clanged,

And I’ve never seen my cat so happy.

She picked up a fiddle

And danced to the middle of the room,

And on two legs, she begs the world 

Not to hum along with her inclusive tune.

The call, the answer,

The melody and dancer are One,

And so inseparable that I can’t see

Where the cat, the fiddle, the notes,

The harmonies, the improvised steps

Of the mystical dance begin or end.

Such fluid motion!

My hips shake. My brain smiles.

I realize my face must look just like

My cat’s face, when she listens to Chopin.

-jenn