Their Quantum Toy

Gravity is stern as death,
implacable.
It tears us from the floating dark
inside the womb
and drags us through the heavy world
down to the grave.
No human born escapes its bonds.
But cats!
The silly beasts tempt death to find
how many lives
they really have; and gravity’s
their quantum toy.
I’ve seen him more than once with my
own eyes;
my own sweet foolish lump of fur
and appetite,
who seems as anchored to the Earth
as you and I—
I’ve seen him levitate, I’ve seen him
lift, weightless,
impossible, from lawn to fence,
or rug to bed,
up from the ground without a hair
or muscle moved.
No holy man who rises from
a bed of nails,
no hemp rope charmed by magic flute is
more miraculous.
He also walks through solid walls, but
don’t they all?

—Jenny Blackford