This narrow road waits
For someone to walk on it
The street lantern will light
And windows will fly open
To mark her passage.
The city's seven corners
Will send cats to see,
To remember, to recount
Things they saw and
Things they'll invent.
Me? I won't need to listen
To the cats' reports.
If the walker, long-awaited,
Is you I'll know by the slender noise
Of your recidivist shadow.
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