He sits beside me, his paw on my knee, orange eyes looking off into the distance. A hollow stare, transfixed in time, in another world, I turn to gaze, yet cannot see, what has caught his eye. He is neither here nor there, but I know, in his own way, that this dark grey hairball shitting machine is somehow serene, as he sits there, peacefully and quietly, but for the soft purr, knowing that he has nine lives...
Nicolas Lusk
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/perspectives-5/
