the end is near and we
itch for its arrival,
vigilant as predatory cats,
tails switching,
mouths watering,
eyes glowering,
prepared to pounce on prey
that will only feed us
for the summer months,
when, just as last fall,
we must accept our
new layer of fur,
duck in and out of doors
during cold winter months,
and wait, wait, wait
for the glory of the end,
for warmth,
for spring.