Pawprints in the snow
The fog creeps in on little cat feet.
It sit on silent haunches,
Looking over harbor and city,
And then moves on.
Only, the cats* are real. More snow this afternoon, they say . . .
*Also, squirrels, dogs, birds, maybe a skunk.
It sit on silent haunches,
Looking over harbor and city,
And then moves on.
Only, the cats* are real. More snow this afternoon, they say . . .
*Also, squirrels, dogs, birds, maybe a skunk.