Birds are singing in the dim blue
night, and I would open the window
to listen and let the cool air
and the insects in, but the old cat
is sitting atop my grandmother's
drawer, listening, carefully.
There's a three meter drop
from that window, but off
he would go if it would be open,
letting the night and the birdsongs
and the breeze in these rooms,
and a cat, searching a nest,
on the fox's path.
31.05.2024
#Poem Poem #Poems Poems #Poetry Poetry #Verse Verse
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