The moon rises in the sky
The golden disk reigns above
The firmament bows to her
The clouds offer her a short rest
The moon is on the hunt
Looking for an aid
To play the game
The cat wakes up
The night is hers to devour
Shadow is her mantle
Night her friend
She slinks from tree to tree
Pouncing on any prey
Blinded by the moon
To be offered to the golden orb.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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