what's with cats
I stand at the sink
And look out my dirty kitchen window
On this gray end of winter day
And there he sits
an old gray cat
staring back
An old gray cat
In the yard next door
atop the wood-pile
it's gray too
There's no light
In the kitchen
And my face isn't
Pressed up against the pane
But he sees me
staring back
As if to say
'well, I guess you can be in my world'
(yawn)
What's with cats, anyway
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