Window of Time

She sits at the window
frozen in time.
What does she really see?
Ghosts from the past
a thousand years old
creatures we don’t understand.
Tail twitching, body poised
not moving an inch
mesmerized by the world outside.
A quiet little mouse,
white tailed deer,
or shadows from wind blown trees.
I look, I stare
but I just don’t see
the view from cat’s eyes so intense.
Hours pass, the cat stands guard,
sky bleeding night black to dawn gray.
Night after night
at the window of time
what stories unfold out of sight?

Poetry & Art by Patricia Walter 1999 ©