Black Cat in a Garden

I can rest here a while.
I know that eyes can see me,
  a chunk of night against the green.
The secret night’s my friend, the day is not.
If anyone comes near I’ll dash
  away beneath the trees.
Sometimes I hear a dog bark — but there’s a fence.
Sometimes a sound like thunder, sharp and low.
My instinct tells me: Danger!
For others, though, not me.
In this spot I feel safe.
I can rest here a while.

A beauty lives in that high house.
Her fur’s like autumn leaves;
  she smells like wood fires and good food.
One starlit night she gave herself to me.
Then she grew round with kittens.
Later I saw her playing with them under that tall oak.
And then the kits were gone.
She hisses at me now if our paths cross.
Her scent still lingers in this patch of grass.
I can rest here a while.