Dead cats still purr

 

 

At ten fifty seven pm I think I was buzzed by the spirts of all of my dead cats

And so I knew the world had turned, the wheel had moved on

Things had changed, the rules were different,

That I had crossed into some strange new realm of the possible

I miss them  but wish them well

It is pleasing that they run together

In precisely the way that cats don’t.

My cats do.

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