Falling Action

A woman alone
In a house of cats.
Mysterious origins,
You cannot tell
She was ever a child.

Nor is it apparent
That she will die.
And the cats, they too
Live as if enchanted,

Chasing shadows
On the empty walls.
Outside, the real drama
Takes place. Everything

Growing up like a
Hydraulic jack in the hands
Of an old man
Who keeps stopping

To read the obituaries.
The wind is blowing,
And the sky is any
Color you care to name.