Behind mean old wooden wall topped by thick, wavyglass, a pale green ocean, frozen,holds me in place. The clock is my sun, its white face hangsabove the metal rail and the shelves acrossthe road filled with sheets. He doesn’tknow that they are moving towards her razorfast, not letting themselvesstop, be seen, ask herwhere she is, what she sees. You can see yourself explaining to the vet how it got stuck in your cats paw as your mind chants, “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry..” to her now yowling soul. Carol Tiebout~ ~ ~ ~ ~Carol Tiebout lives in Edmonds on the traditional land of the Salish peoples.