Tuesday, May 22, 2012

At the Window

While the world burned,
you lifted your chin to my finger,
batted my nose,
watched me winsomely,
said Hello, let's eat, Pick me up,
and I said Those are geese,
and Who is my kitty?  
I am, you said,
with your seashell and musk.

Those were the soft and safe days,
before the door was consumed.

No comments:

Post a Comment