These are the memories that lay underfoot,
the memories I stumble over when waking up.
A black and white long haired cat,
whose purr vibrated the house
when he wanted to to toss him
a furry toy mouse.
These are the memories that lay underfoot,
the memories I scramble when waking up.
Taking eggs from beneath a hen
she set there glaring at me
she wanted to hat the eggs I know,
that that was never to be.
I, also, posted this in the journal Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @
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