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CATTAILS IN THE MORNING

While calmly sipping coffee of a morn,
And contemplating on why I was born,
I watch the cat climb softly to my lap
To primp and preen, then settle down to nap.

As he begins to wash his whiskery face
He will not keep his wandering tail in place.
And while it's waving wildly in the air
I try to track it down-it's never there.

It wiggles to the left as I reach right
And rebounds again in rhythmic delight.
I resume my reaching as it rises up,
Then comes down to coil in my coffee cup.

The tabby turns translucent eyes on me
As if to tell me, "There! now do you see?
If not for you my tail would still be dry.
Why can't you humans be as calm as I?

And cleaning caffeine off his copious fur,
He curls into a ball, begins to purr.
A call upon his dreams he plans to keep,
So he proceeds to promptly fall asleep.