I feel as though
I may have slept
in this very spot
that’s so well kept.
I see some fur
and there’s a dent;
my scent is here
under the tent.
There are not many
spots I’ve just not been;
it’s hard to keep track,
I know there are more than ten.
So slumber here I shall
since I’ve much to do.
I may already have before
unless this is déjà mew.
Autumn Siders 