The Black Cat Looked Skyward
The Black Cat looked skyward
in a thoughtful fashion,
let his gaze drop back
to the silver full moon
surfing gently off
the midnight rickety roof slates
and shadowing the turrets of chimneys
that spread out before him
in greying acres
over Old Smokey London Town.
Scratched twice, theatrically,
leapt off sharply, that way
towards the River and Embankment
in the fragile hope
of catching another glimpse
of her, again.
Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories and sketches published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight, this too may pass, yet.
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