31 May 2012
The Cat-Bus slithers through, The stardust fields and hills. For the journey is now ending, And out the passengers spill.
The grey, furry creatures, Long whiskers and white claws. The soft pads that feel like velvet, On the fluffy, tiny paws.
They troop across the cloudy grass, The dun, midnight sky. They crowd and cluster around a path, The bushes they are rooted by.
Their wide eyes black and shiny, Their soft paws stretching out. Their faces blush and shiver, No words to escape a mouth.
The night is chilly and cool, The wind bites at their fur. As it ripples and swirls around them, The animals still do not purr.
They scour the pale landscape, For signs of isolation to end. The lonely, crowded fluff balls. All they really want is a friend.
The Fluffballs And The Cat-Bus • Opuss № I