One Flew Over...

Goddamn, I was tired.

Black Cat

She creeps,
Along ivy-covered brick walls
And down alleyways cloaked in shadow

On silent paws she stalks
Church mice and sleepy-eyed sparrow
A midnight snack, blood-warm

Upon the window sill she sits
Preening coat with sandpaper tongue
Sharpening claws on weathered wood
Preparing for the future hunt

And she sees all
That the night offers up
There’s no escaping those green green eyes
But your secret’s safe with her
She won’t tell a soul at all
No hiss, no meow, no purr so deep
For she takes no mind of others’ lives

The coming dawn
So light and warm
Will find her curled into a ball
Fast asleep, and dreaming of dusk
Upon the cushion
Of your father’s wing-back chair