Catfight

In the yard across from mine,
as dusk settles in, two
of the street’s stray cats–one
orange, the color of apricot jam, and the
other white with black patches (or black with white,
whichever you prefer)–hiss and screech,
roll around end over end
in the uncut grass raising a
terrible ruckus. And I think of
my high school cafeteria, and
two girls yelling, and painted
nails clawing and scratching,
snatching fistfuls of teased up
hair held high by AquaNet while a
dozen kids circle as witness—
FIGHT! FIGHT!

I didn’t intervene then either.

©stephanie pepper, 2019