The Wanderer

Wild and free, an unknown cat

Wanders the field of buttercups

Soundly sleeping in the bushes,

She awoken in the mist of my shadow.

Silhouette; she ponders her first impression

Questioning my aura, she looks up

Bright blue eyes, sparkling vastly

I squat down on the grass,

Hand held out to her just metres away

Wandering around me, I stay still

Quiet and smiling, peaceful in her company

I allow her to follow her nose kindly.

Rolling her scent into the grass,

She allows me to pet her behind the ears,

And feel her fur, stripy and soft.

[ This is not my cat ]

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