Butterfly in the Window

When Shadows Don’t Match LINK TO POEM

I caught a glimpse of my cat reflected in the window.  She wasn’t fooled into thinking there was another cat.  She was more annoyed that there was a  cold draft trying to out fight the heat coming from the floor vent.  She moved on, back to her usual spot – right next to the more reliable flow of heat coming from my laptop. Wiser than most, she is living in the reality where she knows how to get what she wants.  She doesn’t waste time trying to look deeper into her problems.  This is why cats don’t write poetry.

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