Lawrence Hall, HSG
The Kittens Come on Little Fog Feet
As Carl Sandburg did not say
At dawn: coffee and the Wordle
and thoughts
The moon’s still full, but
one last star winks out
The dew-bathed oaks drip onto
a tricky word
Fog drifts in silence among the
tricky light
A little paw stirs soft autumn’s
molding leaves
And then two eyes appear, and
a greeting tail
The forming image of the cat completes
itself
And then another – two abandoned
cats
These tiny orphans approach –
and love begins
To them I pledge
They will never be hungry or
lonely again
