Night visitor

Up the ladder of a leafless tree, the moon climbs like a cat and settles there cozily on a limb, taking a rest; looking things over -- every sleeping house, unsmoking chimney; first green sprouts of spring; dogs undisturbed by such a visitor silently silver, leaning near the eaves, liking it there, tempted to stay, perhaps, (I can't get down!) catlike again; moving above the limb, taking its time, slowly across the roof, into the sky and over, heading west. Bonnie May Malody

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