Fickle
My cat’s asleep, curled comfy in your lap
while Winter’s howling banshees out the door.
Why would she choose your tummy for her nap?
My cat – asleep, curled comfy in your lap –
is sharing warmth against the blizzard’s rap-
and-whap. She never liked you much before.
My cat’s asleep, curled comfy in your lap
while Winter’s howling banshees out the door.
Copyright © Taylor Graham | Year Posted 2011
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