Cat on a Porch

Maimie with her chew filled cheek out fat
and broom of yellow straw.
The outer porch a swept, she spat

and shooed the cat with sharp “skat!”
into the morning dew.
Weren’t no rhyme nor reason why.

No more as for her sweet Porkchop who,
barely shy of twenty two,
in Arab sand did cold, stiff lie.

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About Pitboss14

Cosmic surfer of paradoxes.
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