Night Prowler
Paws in ballet softness placed,
The skill of dancers deftly traced,
The prowler struts atop the wall,
In night’s expansive hall.
The city sleeping neath the moon,
Sedate in paradisic swoon,
Oblivious to feline forms,
Or overhanging storms.
Discrete the prowler struts his way,
His tail in serpentine display,
The smells upon the air transfix,
As he goes o’er the bricks.
Shadows lunging from the walls,
When out the night a siren calls,
The prowler dashes to the tree,
Adroitly getting free.
Monarch of the night he roves,
Across cement and lightless groves,
Adventuring beyond the fence,
To other places hence.
Stopping now and then to preen,
His paws, forsooth they must be clean,
Then navigating home again,
O’er garden bed and drain.
🐾
adamdaniel 