Surmise 

The black, feral cat --
large, muscular --- walks
across my porch; I rise slowly
as it steps down, turns to the left

and I slide quietly open the glass
door with the cat out of sight.
I growl like a bear.
It runs not looking back until
twenty yards away it stops,
turns its head, surveys me
in the doorway, walks away
without looking back.
Like all creatures great 
and small, I envy
their surmising skill
of danger --
                      seeing,
                      turning away,
                      never looking back.

— Byron Hoot