Cass

Long fur tangled in the road, The colors blurred and cold. Black and white and orange, Stories left untold. Found in the late afternoon heat, With goldish-green eyes wide. The elegant girl is gone now, With nowhere left to hide. The butterfly has flown away, Leaving only the quiet ground. A heavy, empty stillness Where her soft purr once was found. She’s gone into the memory, Into the "pretty baby" song. The afternoon was far too short, The night is far too long.