My cat, Flecks

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My cat, Flecks

She creeps closer and sniffs.
My cat, Flecks, is curious.

She begins to paw and inspect.
The thing gets furious.

She nips. It runs. She bats. It hides.
My cat, Flecks, sits and smiles.

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The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

annaoctober85’s Poems (1)

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