Yowling Poem by Donal Mahoney

Ed's wife found a sinkhole
in the yard a year ago
a foot wide, several feet deep

and she wanted it filled.
No problem said Ed.
The sinkhole is hidden

behind a big bush
next to their garage.
Sometimes a feral cat,

good as its eyes may be,
falls into the hole at night,
never to come out.

The yowling can go on
longer than a week.
Neighbors around

Ed’s stockade fence
ask where the yowling
is coming from and Ed

asks them if they
have a cat in heat.
They always say no

and the questions stop.
Meanwhile, feral cats,
once a plague in Ed's yard,

no longer crouch
in the foliage and leap
to pluck robins and

cardinals out of the air.
Birds can worship now
at Ed’s suet and feeders,

wipe their beaks in peace,
serenaded at times
by the yowling.