Iris

the pupil is a cipher

doorway to vision

exquisitely attuned

sentinel of photons

and desire

my daugher’s cat

taught me this

sitting contentedly

by the window

turning his gaze

upwards toward

the overcast sky

still bright enough

to shrink his pupils

from circle to almond sliver

they plumped out again

when he turned his head

back toward the inane

shadows of manmade

shelter and boredom

until a bird flurried by a flash

of feathers whipping Whiskey’s head

around to follow the whooshing whir

of wings like lightning

his attention now ignited

by intention and though

the light had not changed

iris and pupil were suddenly

servants of desire agreeing to open

fully to the promise of pursuit