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Rocking Chair
Alone in the south set room,
with three big picture windows,
my mother sits in her favourite recliner.
I observe her from the hallway.
Rocking the chair, a sleeping cat on her lap.
stroking his back while he purrs.
I remember when I was young,
when instead of the fat tabby, it was me on her lap.
Slowly rocking until I drifted asleep.
Though cats are good company,
I just hope she does not grow lonely
when I go away.
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