Lawrence Hall, HSG
The Kittens Come on Little Fog Feet
As Carl Sandburg did not say
At dawn: coffee and the Wordle and thoughts
The moon’s still full, but one last star winks out
The dew-bathed oaks drip onto a tricky word
Fog drifts in silence among the tricky light
A little paw stirs soft autumn’s molding leaves
And then two eyes appear, and a greeting tail
The forming image of the cat completes itself
And then another – two abandoned cats
These tiny orphans approach – and love begins
To them I pledge
They will never be hungry or lonely again
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