Night stalker

Just a poem about a black cat...my cat.

Black silk in motion, studded green eyes
 reflects a darkened world, his world.
 While we sleep and dream-
 he prowls in search of scraps,
 yours I think.

 Not so fine in scrambling with claws and spit.
 He returns to a feline fancy,
 black as night like him,
 keeping tune with blasting winds.
 Does he coo? do you wake? a shoe to him
 the stalker/lover.

 Through the cold, fancy free, some angle
 he will find to keep him free from you
 and yours,
 no what I mean?

 Perfect symmetry on my back wall,
 white light from nature's porch
 falls on the scoundrel in black ,
 the beggar- stalker,
 that's my cat.