Cats calling in the night
Cries loud and eerie and
sad
They stalk and prance as
they choose
No one tells them to claw
or snake away
Or toss a baleful glance
to anyone who dares to walk the alley
They jump to the heights
of the tall fence
So that they can sit and
rake their tails in swaying motion
And cast an evil eye on
the pitied and mere mortals.
Feline hearts pump at one
with those of the witches
Together they are joined
by the task of the night watch
For blackness is as
familiar as their own foul breath
Jagged teeth edge fetid
lips as they yawn unconcerned
Breathing the stinking
air with satisfaction
No fear mounts in their
stealthy souls for the hags
Who chant and sing in
uncanny mantras
At the edge of the woods
where the moonlight lies strong.
Cats are of their breed,
molded of furtiveness and craft, of sly and sleek
Black as the hard core of
night
Hard as the calloused
soles of work-worn feet
Souls carried by bloodied
mangled paws
Down a lone, black, alley
street.
They stop to watch the
witch at the garbage bin
Envying her catch,
watching her lick the scrap of meat
Longing for the slimy
taste again upon their roughened tongue
Bloodied with mangled
rats and the dark red blood of the moon.
At the midnight hour they
soar together in magical suspense
If you are very careful
you may see
The flash of ebony
Carline and cat outlined
in silhouette
Swiftly pass the sharp
silver of hard moon
And disappear into the
bottomless depths of hell.
Then, one night again
soon
You will see the kitten
new
Slinking in ancient
rhythm
Black, black as the dark
coal of the bin
And just for a moment she
will turn
Watching you with the
evil eye of the witch...
Who rides and returns to
claim her own.
cailin raine
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