Watched and wondering

In the fading light the

cat is gray.

The skyline that spreads before

flat

nothing rises above the ground

it is the line

it is the beginning

it is the end.

Where when I look

are the signs that point to what was?

What will be?

Find me within the quiet.

There at the edge of what was me

I find what wasn’t me.

Is the gray cat following me?

Or have I lost more than my horizon?