Old Cat Poem by Steven Federle
Old Cat
She lies under my chair
warmed by the dancing sun
as singing leaves
nod the long afternoon
towards evening.
her fur flows
in the freshening wind;
she hears the
trees whisper
their secret...
that soon night
will draw her in,
cradle her softly,
and fill her eyes
with sleep.
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4/24/2024 4:58:34 AM # 1.0.0.1119
