The day a trifle worn, amid languid gazes torn,
Sane mist born and multitude shadows shorn,
Beneath the thickets brown, beyond the lantana crown,
Mulled the spotted might, a canvas in intrigued slight,
A feline grace in race, a patented snarl in spate,
Many mighty questions quaked, in poignant nature awake,
Hey human trespassers in gaze, miniscule strangers in haze?
Why seek thine answers bold to mine questions old?
And as the mist meandered and the heartbeats mated,
As the medieval winds swayed and the sunset played,
Albeit in a trice, the surprised soul shed its stupor,
Lightning two bounds, he was gone, yonder asunder,
Alas, memories orphaned – till we meet, some morrow again.