Everyday
Shortly after noon
I see you
Head up the hill
Towards the house
Your house
Not mine.
Your small white frame
Moves slowly
Tired
Visible to all
Who care to notice.
Is your belly full
From a night of hunting?
Have you had your fill
Of mice, or nothing?
I envy you
Neighbor cat
It seems that
Nothing has changed
In your world
Only in mine.
© Carol Labuzzetta, 2020.

Today is Poetry Friday. Our round up is hosted by Frankie and Mary Lee of A Reading Year blog. Both are fifth grade teachers and published authors. Thanks to them and the others who host throughout the year , we have a supportive community with whom to share our writing.


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