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She may as well be speaking in tongues

As she lies asleep in her little bed.

The sounds that seep out are as unschooled to me

As otherworldly communications.


Her paws twitch; her head twists.

What is she dreaming? Dreaming?

Do cats really dream?

Do they share with us common relations?


I think so, if I’m to guess.

I think, like we, she sorts things out

While fast asleep, without bodily control.

I’m certain cats dream of cat concerns.


A brain is a brain, large or small.

A soul is a soul, fleshy or furry.

We have far to go interpreting tongues.

A mind is a mind; it eventually and naturally learns.

poem and photo by S.A. Bort / 17 May 2016