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Zandrt Sleeping

By John I. Blair

Zanderís sleeping next to Grace;
Their backs just barely touch;
Their eyes are closed and quiet.

Out sticks one paw,
Slowly flexed from time to time;
The other curls toward his nose.

Warm air from the furnace,
Light breeze from the ceiling fan,
Music from a nearby room.

How soft his fur; how delicate his ears;
How peaceful is his pose
In this place he knows is safe.

How true the words
A home without a cat
Is just a house.

©2017 John I. Blair, 1/17/2017

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