THe Catnaps End

Last night was a catnap at best
As deep as the dead
But the cat woke up with a start
As though someone had petted his head
And climbed out from under his covers
Out of the warmth of his big lonely bed
To stand weaving on his feet
And start the pacing of his constant drive
A heart too fast repeats it's beat
That’s so much a part of his nine waking lives
No REM to dream this night
No happy thoughts to make things right
Just moving and pacing
Trying to get ahead of himself
In the cold and empty night