Summer’s Feral Kittens

Summer’s crop of feral kittens
cry all night beneath
your bedroom windows
skittish and wild
eyes gleam in the dark
If you got out of bed
tried to catch them
they would scatter, hiss
Cornered, they would bite
to escape you, Wary
and more than wary of anything
larger than themselves
But still they return, night after night,
drawn to houses, to heartbeats
summoned to any lit windows
Small electric vibrations of desire.