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08/03/2004

To Sleep on a Poet's Lap

I watched her struggle
Every breath a battle
Listening with horrified fascination
to her death rattle
When the end was drawing near
I pulled her on my lap
and held her near
Gave loving gentle strokes
to her soft soft fur
Praying that the pain
wasnt hard to endure
...
Her breath's grew calm
she didn't moan
I felt myself breathing with her
until she was done
The final sleep for my dear cat
Was on this poet's tear stained lap