Guinevere

I found you under a tree
cold, alone, and hungry.
Perfectly fit in my pocket.
Your eyes pressed tight,
two fine black lines where
those eyes should be-
like how I do when I'm scared.

Your eyes are stormy-
always raining even
when it's hot outside.
Your feet white
like a culprit by day
and a painter by night.

There's one that waits for you
every night
circling the garden
under the grapevines.
Come out, small one
You belong to no one
Leave as we are meant to do

But your soft padded paws
never left my steps,
guarding me from
the evil glow
of the night.
Your heart beat
playing the harmony to mine.