Patrick William Kavanagh
Comments about Patrick William Kavanagh
He stands there now, a distant figure,
grey fur blending with the evening gloom.
I stand here by my cabin window, just as still as he,
and wonder if he sees me too, despite the darkness of the room.
The moon rises large and bright, and in the play of silver light
I see that he is not alone, and catch my breath in fright.
Shadows flicker silver grey then fade, make me even more afraid,
As I hear the steps of padded feet, I suck in air between my gritted teeth.