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Looking out
the kitchen
window in the
dim early evening
light I’m waiting
for the stray cat
in the back
yard to move
just scratch its
nose with its
paw or else
dash out between
gaps in the
run-down picket
fence when I
realize it’s not
a stray cat
I’m looking at
but a black flower
pot knocked over
on its side and
in that instant
I remember all
those years I lost
being obsessed
searching for meaning
in places where
there was none.
Copyright 2023 Jose Padua
.

Photograph by Jose Padua
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So fine Ser Joseph!
And why wouldn’t it be!
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Thank you!
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September Song?
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Oh, I love it! The deft touch, the economy of words, the killer ending!
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