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Kahlua hunched on the window sill,
quirky dispositioned, willful still,
stares one moment then looks away,
six year old cat, unfolding her day.
Prey seeking, with little left to do,
not wondering what humanity's coming to,
feline taut, body poised for what's ahead,
unaware of aging's encroaching death.
Neutered creature, satisfied and bold.
I had dutifully did what she had told,
she invaded my dreams, made me rise,
fed the choicest moist titbits, I supplied.
Now she searches the vastness just outside,
ghosts from the past, she was denied.
Tropical forests abounding with life,
assiduously preparing for strife or flight.
2nd August 2001
Author: Roy Schoenberg - Bay Shore, New York, USABack to The Poems of Roy Schoenberg