Quiet Night

An echo called to me last night

At first I thought it was the cat but he was curled up and sound asleep

So I went to the window that held the moon full and bright

And waited.

And waited a bit more,

But nothing, not even a peep.

I went to sit back down at my desk to attempt a poem

But this time I heard a moan

Was it a moan? Maybe something more like a groan,

So I padded back over to the window with the moon high and bright.

That’s where I saw him.

He had dragged himself from the park

Limping with his broken arm draped over his chest, covering his heart.

I walked over to the cat, stroked his long, warm fur.

Then grabbed my shovel and went downstairs

To finish what I started.