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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