A coven of three

A coven of three

3am: in the gentle breeze of the garden
escaping the clam of sweat
and the calm of cleep.
Me, the familiar cat and the whim of God -
a coven of three within the cloak of night.
The smoked-glass whisper of the moon
occasionally breeching the gossip of clouds;
the caress of coolness
charming away the night's oppression.

Whose soul are you cat ?
Black and white guard companion at my feet
on the parched summer-grass.

3.42am: the embryo of day.
Breaking of song - a blackbird's bidding prayer
long before the sun lays down its carpet.
Dangerous trees still cling
to their shadowy nakedness
postponing their morning dresses.

4.00am: the early shift begins.
Choristers on roofs and branches
as the genesis of day
begins its pastel revelation.