Cicadas buzz the restless air

And twilight turns to dark.

Wind moves through the trees,

Stirring leaves and swaying branches,

Whispering an eternal lullaby

To Chester, who lies buried in a stand of cedar,

Content, perhaps, with his cat’s Thanatopsis:

An orange tabby curled in his magnificent couch,

Sixteen years old, a lifetime spent on two acres of land

House cat

Barn cat

Porch cat

Our cat, draping the evening’s pleasant sounds about him as he sleeps.

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