This kind of has a rhyme scheme, which is odd for me The cat in the poem is our outdoor cat, Sara. I’ll tell her later I included her in a poem, though I suspect she won’t care too much.

An Evening

He strummed the guitar,
she drummed a rhythm,

and the street cat yawned
as night fell around them.

“Do you think we’re okay?”
he asked and switched chords.

The girl kept the same beat.
She smiled and said, “Of course.”

The cat meowed, famished.
“After this song,” the man promised.