The Cat Of The Evening Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
The Cat Of The Evening
It goes into night
It survives the dusk
Does not pine
With
It
Remains
Indifferent
The cat
Goes
Up
A
Path
Up
The
Hill
Below
The
Village
Beckons
It
Be
Near
Midnight
Few
Lights
Are
Up
The
Others
have
been
put off.
But the cat is cunning.
There's cunning
In
Its
Eyes.
It
Will
Not
Hide
It.
Her tail wags behind
Her
Now
She
Regards
It
Indifferent
Too.
Too
Indifferent
Too
Too
The cat.
The cat of night
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/25/2024 11:16:41 AM # 1.0.0.1119
