Ford Island

No feral cats roam
the island
sit on windowsills
sleep on forgotten front porches

Trimmings
that made houses homes
days holidays
seasons special. Gone.
war came. duty called.

Then the world changed.

Snug in St. Maggie’s Dale
cats hiss and scamper
sneak around corners
bivouac under a chair
Jimmy the dog has come to stay for awhile.

Phones ring, change hands, ring, ring
vehicles come and go
doors open, close
people seem to sleep in shifts
no war room this –

The holidays are upon us!
pause and give thanks.

(December 7th)