Generic

As the waxing Gibbous 
harvest moon rises; 
feathery, cloud fingers 
claw across the raven sky. 
A beautiful feline slips unnoticed through familiar shadows. 
Leathery wings flutter and dance around the gnats’ party. 
And she is drawn like a moth 
to the porch light where 
she spies the shine of 
the barley-sugar glass cane. 
There is no element of choice now 
as she obeys the compulsion 
to count the beads within 
and before she realises, 
the blush of dawn is upon her 
and she knows that for tonight 
the witching hour is over....

Witching hour