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Cat's Eyes

As the stars sleep,

tiny tears weep

and wash our eyes.

As the wind beds down

its head my breath

is caught in arms.

A pale sickly moon haunts,

the eyes of a thousand cats stare

while I perform in dreams.

Deaf man

Birdsong echoed off the wind

and someone whistled

a toneless tune

that mocked the harmony

nature gave us.

I sat, irritated, on that bus,

I wanted to shout

at the tone deaf man

who sailed nightmare ghosts,

but I got off instead.

by

Ian Sawicki