Luckily the cat feted was found low in a net of weeds
As half is mine, already,
the other's not, with a little grime on a pink dill lip:
this cat (of all critters)
I thought, slated for love, was lost in darkening pots--
Tino, of halts and starts &
of the tonsured neck & the throaty purr who likes to
tear sheaves off lonely hearts
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