Of No Consequence

a poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Rained paused, only a few
Silvery drops whispered
Upon satiated soil.

Shafts of light through chinks
In lead, a ray of kindle warmed
The cat’s face.

Closed its eyes, enjoyed
The trice as only one which
Lives for the moment does.

The fissure fused, the cat
Went into the barn hunting mice.
Killing without regrets.