Eyes, fallow-brown, bright.
Her nose a wet, rosy pink.
Her paws scampering after me,
She awaits eagerly to go outside,
In the morning,
There is a faint sliver of moonlight,
And the yellow glow,
Of the porch light.
The marbled array,
Red, brown, and orange,
Of autumn leaves,
Are lost in the near darkness.
Painted black and purple, deep as the ocean,
Stars still akindled, glowing in her eyes.
Quiet as the dead of night.
A sleeping world.
She bounds freely in the bitter cool,
And she always returns to greet me again,
All her excitement still there.