Today I watched a stealthy battle.
On the one side: Dusk, my cat.
On the other: dusk, the end of day.
Dusk (the cat) slinked across the lawn
and sat very straight in the last pool
of sunlight.
The very last traces of pink and orange had finally disappeared from the sky.
Dusk (the end of day) filtered in, creeping slowly toward my cat.
Suddenly, with a fierce battle cry, Dusk the cat leaped toward the oncoming darkness.
He sneered and jeered, taunted and dared the dusk to invade his territory.
Needless to say, his nemesis ignored the clawing paws that stretched into it.
Dusk fell over the jumping cat who tried in vain to catch the silvery nothingness and tackle it into submission.
Dusk happens at the end of every day just like the little battle that my cat insists on carrying out. I'm sure Dusk (the cat) believes someday he'll win. Meanwhile, I'm content to watch.