The Cat and the Moon

Something about the crouching

hesitance, a reluctance to move

an inability to shift from the stark

certainty of lightness gleaming

in the driveway like the spotlight

of a car, nine lives and maybe this

the very last. A reflectance of chance

from one to another as if the sight

of the other slowed time, this night.

 

 

Copyrighted by the author

 

 

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