To be a cat
was what i dream
when i was a tad,
wee bit thing.
during summer
or ordinary hot days
it lay sleepily
on grass or parking lots.
eyes tightly shut,
ears flopped close,
stomach up or sideways
hands as pillows do.
winter came and
inside it leaped
well snuggled in basket,
purring on soft laps.
To be a cat,
i used to dream...
now isnt that
a pretty darn thing?
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