Poem: The Stray
The Stray
behind me,
I do not turn to look,
am not afraid, only curious,
but if I turn, it may be
too much. I am hoping
it is the cat I saw last week,
I am certain it was here before,
hope to see it again,
even if does not become a friend,
it is nice having it about,
to feel it nearby,
even if it is not
the cat I wish
was still here.
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