My Canadian Chronicles 006
D
David Harris
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He sat on the table watching over me
as I sat in silence writing my poetry.
His restless nature meant he had to find another perch,
maybe my lap for a few minutes at a time.
His ginger coat was fluffy
and his fur clung to my clothes,
but he was loveable
from his pink nose to his toes.
Company in the silent time
as I drank my cup of tea
and composed my poetry.
9 June 2009
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