Quickly, thickly spread the fog,
Throughout the town that night,
Familiar landmarks disappeared,
Just erased from sight.
A dark figure roamed the streets,
Through the fog, he moved alone,
Silently and stealthily,
Unseen, unheard, unknown.
Up one street and down the other,
Street lamps not of any use,
Pinpoints of fuzzy lights,
There for safety?  What a ruse!
On the main street, near the park,
The fog now thicker and more dense,
The figure growing edgy,
His footsteps faster, more intense.
He bumped into a massive tree,
He knew it was; he felt its bark,
He backed away, veered to the side
Then moved onward in the dark.
He stopped a moment when he heard
Light footsteps running by,
A woman, hurrying and scurrying,
The fear he sensed was justified.
A pretty lady, vulnerable,
Why out alone this night?
An easy prey; he followed her,
And tried to keep her in his sight.
Then, totally obscuring her
Came a sudden gust of wind,
Enshrouding her with a foggy cloud,
Stealing her away from him.
Who knew what went through his mind?
Who knew his disposition?
Why was he out this awful night?
What was his quest - his mission?
In the distance, a dot of light,
He headed that direction,
Now, with careless speed, he raced,
That place - his destination.
The structure silent in the black,
Its windows draped against the night,
But one curtain hung askew,
And he peeked through that hole of light.
Ah-h ... just as he remembered it,
The room looked snug and warm,
He realized then how cold he was,
And tired, footsore, and worn.
His last few steps directed him
To the front door, where he cried,
Then it was flung open,
And he was rushed inside.
"Where have you been, you naughty cat?
You worried us to death!"
He purred and preened and ankle-rubbed,
As with love, the wayward cat was met.

Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
Copyright April 2004

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