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There You Sit

By John I. Blair

There you sit,
Patient on a pile of leaves,
Waiting for me.

By now youíve learned
Iíll be around
By and by,

A jar or two in hand
Of chow and treats,
Talking softly,

Trying in my clumsy style
To let you know
Iím not a threat.

Ours is a strange game,
You intent on being
Wild and free,

Me so drawn to help
I typically forget
Youíre not tame.

So I make little nests
For you to snuggle in,
Then complain

You choose instead
A cold hard spot
For curling up.

You, finally convinced
After months of this dance
Iím somehow OK.

Iím one kind note
In your unfriendly world
On which you can depend,

No longer questioning my motive,
No longer primed
To run away,

No longer quite as wild
As you were born
To be.

©2018 John I. Blair, 12/30/2018

Photo of Patio Cat is shown below.


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