curled up and sleeping they are
three fury hunters tired from a
night of dreams and imaginations,
hunting mice and rabbits and birds
that have flown too close by the
comfort zone of our protections;
these fearless creatures who run
and hide when door bells chimes,
and loud sound in the night or
the thunder from a storm off in
distance and seldom seen until
flashes appear in the windows;
curled and sleeping the see
what they cannot see and no
longer fear what is real until
they have to stretch and eat.
28 August 2020
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