Day Six: #WoPoWriMo - The Night Comes Calling

   

A warning of red,

spreads across a sky,

lowing and bleating, as a day

creeps by, lost in tomorrow and

bovine sighs of lava-hot breath.

Lonely feline, treads and tests, her way,

along

a stepping-stone path;

cotton-wool calls

down to ask, if a moon

should light the hunt.

Beneath me, you shift,

flanks growing,

soft grunt

of impatience

as we take in the view. A train rattles by

on the viaduct below:

and it ought 
to shatter our peace.

But it raises no more than

gentle release as you drop

your hock to rest.

Watching the sunset, we are

more than blessed with effervescent glory;

and we listen

to increasing,

beautiful

nothingness

as the night comes calling.