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After all, it is only spilt milk rushing
across my freshly cleaned table to dive
into the crack and slide along
‘til it reaches an antique oak leg.
White streaks whip around
the hand turned dips and whorls
in the leg and plunk onto the floor
to form a calm white sea
for the cat to lap.


Katelyn Thomas is a poet and photographer who works in the children’s department of her local library. She spends her free time hiking, reading and watching her rambunctious hens cavorting in the sunlight.

© 2017, Katelyn Thomas

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