Titled

A stopped train
at the rusted end of tracks
three feral cats
live under the wall
next to it
It is hemmed in
both sides
by done factories
Someone has left a plate
for the tree
It’s somebody’s mother’s fine porcelain
from Bohemia
It begins to snow
as a first cat appears
and licks the dead chunks of beast
from a young emperor’s face
Think what it is to be first
to appear
then vanish cold
before the others get here

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