Black cat slithering
through the field
sinuous around each
clump and weed,
a void against the
grey-tan grasses
abandoned by winter.
Above, sky showing ribs.
Below, all paths and trace
concealed,
obliterated.
Seeking?
The Quote Box
The writer’s only responsibility is to his art. He will be completely ruthless if he is a good one. He has a dream. Everything goes by the board: honor, pride, decency, security, happiness, all, to get the book written. If a writer has to rob his mother, he will not hesitate; the “Ode on a Grecian Urn” is worth any number of old ladies.
— William FaulknerThe Cat Cam
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Nice! I like that ribbed sky as well.