Soon, the evening begins to slide the fall
the last of the sunbeams is soon to crash
against an unavailable horizon filled with darkness
whiskers trembles, wakening suddenly
the old hunter's claws, redraws
its new hunger while the warrior roars
fluffy cushions, little paws
ears aware and tail seductive
there it goes eating the milky wave of stars
one by one until the void of night
caresses its fur... it roars softly, tenderly
it asks to walk the grasses
to do whatever cats do until the middle of the magic hour
its eyes blink mysteriously, graciously
once to her keeper then towards the hazel mist of woods
where the full moon st