I.
Cloud heavy sky
calico cat on the porch
sleepy July morn
II.
Gun metal grey clouds
embrace the town's center
A calico cat rests,
curled in a circle on the front porch
At the dome's edge, clouds
dance and dart at play
The cat watches the traffic pass
wonders why we go in a straight line
Why we do not dance
Why our voices hold no song
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