In a stifled moonlight

Glowing eyes of a stealthy black cat
makes me cower; they instill a sense of remorse
as if I’m to blame for the premature wreckage
of yet another graceful spring.

I always dread the feline gaze -
observing me from unusual corners,
mostly at informal moments like when I crave
for a glimpse of Kiliminjaro through window panes.

An ancient breeze heaves a sigh,
alarms the still maze of shadows in the garden.
Mist rises, blurs from my view all other things
but the burn of two probing eyes, tracking my moves
without end.