Deep in the lazy afternoon,
Stroked by the sun,
The cat lies long,
Ears shut against the clangour
Of the street,
Eyes tight against the light,
In a slow dream of langour.
A boy comes by,
Full of a wicked joy,
And twists the tempting tail.
The dream evaporates,
In a swift feline hate,
That scores a ruby trail,
Across his flesh.
A mere scratch,
A cat nip, soon forgot.
A languid stretch,
And she resumes her nap.
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