It’s pretty cold outside,

Better wear a coat.

Wind blows through the street,

Too dark for the eye to see alone,

So I seek the guidance of burning hot streetlights.

 

An automobile zooms by,

Blowing a newspaper by my shoulder.

Is there any important news tonight?

Nothing. Bad news is the agenda.

I, wandering as a feline,

Beginning to realize that there is nobody else.

 

I have a home- somewhere.

Yet, tonight, I am as an eremite,

Begging for aegis, willing to expiate

Any mistakes I have made,

Walking chary, yet insouciant, as a wandering cat.

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