40°f/4.4°C, clear, with a heavy morning dew.
It's National Poetry Month, so I am trying to write a poem a day for NaPoWriMo. Here's this morning's draft.
Caring
Ernie loved his cats,
all twelve of them,
but when his heart gave out,
and suddenly he was gone,
neighbors wondered,
What will happen to the cats?
The young girls, the ones
who lived up the road
with their war veteran Dad,
knew what to do.
They just fed the cats,
and one by one,
they took them home.
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