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By John I. Blair

Half lost for lack of light
A figure lurks on furred feet,
Hunched beside the bowl.

From the ears
And shape of head
I make out this is a cat.

It stares about,
Tense, poised to run,

Then settles down to eat.
Need trumps fear
Even in the night.

2019 John I. Blair, 8/13/2019

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