How
shall
we celebrate?
with eggnog. tree.
(doubt there’ll be snow)
family, friends.
cookies. candles.
stack lots of firewood.
(oh no. cutter packed)
Beth – gingerbread men duty.
festival of nine lessons and carols.
advent calendar. packed.
(will anyone notice)
order turkey (vegetarian too)
somehow it falls into place.
I’m so glad you Always
put fruit and nuts in the stockings.
And cats, NO getting up early this year!
When my first cat died I cried as if my heart would break mourning though they did not find her until the next day My small, thin body lay arms pulled close trying in vain to hold me together I can touch the pain as if it were yesterday We played and rode bikes sneaked…
Nights you’d prowl the house in stark contrast to days of nursing/moving/coaxing Did you slip away, certain your baby was asleep – forgetting she was an only child soon to miss the warmth of your body? or was it a need from deep inside to have some part of each day silently to yourself? It…
After reaching the waterfront she settled on the old concrete bulkhead next door I at the end of the dock Maisie rested against my hip as Fox and I regarded each other from a suitable distance A few water birds passed lazily overhead but did not disturb And so we sat ignoring, and wondering about…
Life was expectant with spring’s first bud rushed headlong into summer barely paused when Fall rescued us from languid August days. Winter nearing we must linger till morning light to pull on warm clothes slip past sleeping cats and out for our morning walk. No heron or Squirrel – only geese pass overhead, honking snow…
Her worn collar long faded and stained used to be hot summer pink with lime-colored palm trees dancing ‘round Set against a pale yellow-white coat – she might as well have been wearing diamonds Later came the grass and mud, chocolate (swiped pastry) and a few garden remnants… over time each stain became an embedded…
Something skitters across the room – cats not far behind another bird has been plundered from the garland that winds its way up the stairs why are these cats so sure that the season’s decorations are strictly for their amusement? we have given up believing they will ever stay out of the tree perhaps our…