Today, for Poetry Friday, we're all about the big cats!

The lynx is not the only point of Alan R. Wilson's "Lynx" (as published in the anthology Coastlines: The Poetry of Atlantic Canada). However, as this is the Internet, it behooves us to stress as many cat-related qualities as are possible.

These are the rules of the Internet, and we must obey them.

The Internet is made of cats, after all.

Please enjoy.

Lynx
     (for Anne)

If I am first in the ground, visit me,
Even if snow lies deep on that cold hill.

Forget the cut flowers. Forget the chill.
Your toasty arrangement of toes will be

My bouquet. And no burial decree
Will seal our separation — a few still

Feet below yours lies the man who, until
He hugged the soil, loved you exclusively.

Despite the desolation of the snow,
The deer shall pass like ghosts through the gravestones.

The bear shall heat his resting place. Above,
The lynx shall watch you through the icy glow

Of bare branches, like the stubborn thoughts of
A man who still sees you through his own bones.