In the new grass
a cat left his nap,
a sleep shape
where the stems
lie flat.
A naturalist, I collect
naps, but so does the rain
the clouds are threatening
and I don’t mind
giving in
to Spring.
Midday
Posted Week 12 by Joa · No Comments
Tags: poetry
0 responses so far ↓
There are no comments yet...Kick things off by filling out the form below.
Leave a Comment