Several times over the summer I’ve though caught glimpes of a shadow-cat wandering around the house. Is it my eyesight? A left-over of the floating filiments seen in migraine-inspired sight? I’m not sure. The shape always seems to be Basette-sized, slipping around the edges of my vision. It’s comforting to think she might drop in every now and then and visit.

Shadows like memories filter through the morning mist
like dust particles speckling light
A shadow crosses the room
little black bedwarmer fleeing sight?

Categories: CatsPoetry

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