Phew , Danielle de Picciotto - The Cat

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The cat watches fireflies in my garden, Tapping its tail slowly Furry philosopher, You can see the ghosts that surround us And play with their coat tails. Remnant of the wild, Your soul bears shadows of the past, Dark and deathly still. I trail you to the river And we gaze at minnows With glazed eyes and sharpened claws. Always the hunter, You fall with grace, Into my lap, Rough-tongued, Whiskered Staring at my eyeballs As they move, Small beads to play with Purring, a carpet of fluff, You put your paws up for a moment, Relaxing bonelessly, Slackening into a tea towel, Playfully innocent Until the nighthawk screams From the outskirts. Sliding to the edge Pupils dilated, No longer tamed You dissolve into the night, Shadowless Your nine lives calling.
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