Tabby

The cat slept in the sun, and from where I was standing, it looked good. What were you dreaming of you tabby cat? Surely not of a faraway friend, nor absent offspring? Were you perhaps dreaming of a boundless forest filled with birds to stalk, pounce and discard? Of roads without cars maybe? Of your next sardine scented meal perhaps? Or have you tabby cat, mastered the skill of emptying your mind before you rest? Your sleep looked so peaceful, no furrow in your M-ed brow, I'm guessing tabby cat, that you have.