Some things are naturally

vigorous. They encroach,

they ooze confidence. Some

beings act entitled. Wisteria

climbs all over every shrub

and tree it can reach.

It smothers. Yet I welcome

its twilight shade on a hot

tar afternoon to hide me

from the lava sun under

its arbor. The kitten arrived

yesterday at one p.m.

We sheltered it in a closed

room. No, he said, I want!

Three big cats surrounded

him. He charged. They fled.

Now he lies sprawled, a two

pound lion, contemplating

his kingdom. I like it here,

he says. I shall take over.

Confidence is a weapon.

A skinny girl on Detroit

streets, I learned a snarled

threat could bluff a fight.

But it only takes you so

far, can slide into danger.

I am the wary referee

in a whirlpool of cats.