She was never my own; always stayed
with the night. Her dark coat glazed
only when the moon was lit.

I asked her to stay for just a while,
then it passed. She became too tired
watching the pond wallow, shine.

She asked me if I loved her, see if
it was true. I told her no lies though
she danced to her merry tune;

“Cat’s got your tongue! It will merrily
be mine!” and sang to the sky until
it burst into booming song.

Many others agreed so I sat there.
Me, alone. She left with her play
along smile ‘till I sang my own verse.

“Cat’s got my tongue! I’ll chase
‘till I die!” Wailed into the night,
perched forward, fell, to fly.