A misty, mournful, mysterious dusk
In the far west, a dying, paling glow
Overhead, a cold, sinister half-moon
The back yard darkens to an evil grey
Cats sit eerily, silent, motionless
Posed in different artistic attitudes
Like statues in a murky pagan temple
They wait, they watch, they listen;
they do not move
Are they waiting for the ancient Cat-Goddess?
Do they ponder the end of Man and Time?
Is this the hour they worship dark powers?
Do they listen for voices from the nether world?
Sarah says they’re waiting to be fed
Women are like that