Thursday, September 29, 2011

Day Two Without You

Usually, when I am just about halfway
through my breakfast, you approach
the kitchen table, stop, look at me,
but before I can scoop you up and
set you in my lap, or offer you the
other chair, you scamp off toward
the living room—glance back,
scamp, glance, scamp.  This
is your not-so-subtle way
of telling me I have had ample
time with my bagel, and that I
should bring my coffee with me
to Mystie’s Coffee Shop, a section
of the living room, which boasts a
Tiffany blue square ceramic water
bowl, as well as a six by six inch flat
wood table, on which I can place my mug.
This area is conveniently located in front of
the stereo,  so I will remember to turn on your
favorite blues station.  It happens to be the place
where your kitty blanket and all your brushes are
stored, under the stereo cabinet. The weight of your
absence made the sunless thundering sky -- soaking
fallen leaves on the ground outside almost go unnoticed.


New Classics said...

o, elaine, did you lose a loving companion? condolences.

elainehev said...

Oh, no---sorry! It's just that my cat is having a radioactive iodine treatment at a hospital 2 hours from here! It should be a cure. She'll be back in a week, thanks for your concern, whomever you are, animal lover.