A Year of Poems – Day 353

I often start with nonsense
And make my way towards sense
To start off any other way
Is to wander near the cliffs.

I like to take my wandering thought
And bring it home to pen.
But what do we do about the cat
searching beyond its ken?

I like to think my journeys
Will always end at home
Smile cold from ocean mist,
the kettle on for tea.

The cat left home at teatime
I tried to call his name,
But he had never seen the cliffs in fog
And was tired of all this speech.


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