Night Sky

The moon was calling, calling me...from my sleep, from my bed, out my front door. My cat looked at me with curiosity; the porch is her night territory, not mine.

But the moon was calling, calling me. I couldn't not take her picture as the clouds swiftly and repeatedly hid and revealed her brightness. Her light made silhouettes of all the trees.

"You called?" I asked. 

But only the wind answered, "Breathe."