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Poem

The biggest berries are in the centre
of a tunnel of thorny bushes.
A shark gaping wide,
promising not to nip.

Poem

We watch them, hypnotized.
Pale and mysterious,
They rise and fall. Joe says
“They look like ghosts.”

Poem

Teach me the language of Cat;
the slow-motion blink, that crystal stare,
a tight-lipped purr and a wide-mouthed hiss.
Let me walk with a saunter, nose in the air.