Heavy chested I breathe
as the moon whitewashes the night.

The season is changing
and in the wind is the vapor of hyacinth
in the thick of which
the glowworms drink the nectar of night.

They have no philosophy and I have many
like while they dance just for the sake of life
my mind enveloped in obscurity
has shackled my feet and clipped my wings.

I wonder if the glowworms have a mind
that knows when they dance
they have an audience.

Maybe the stars know the same way
when they twinkle.

I heard it as distinct as I hear my heartbeat
in my ears. A slight, faint plaint, from the corner
of my closet.
Was it a purr? Or a breath from a lost friend
calling me to look. Marge, a phantasm, memory?
Touched my shoulder. I heard words say,
look in the little box in the corner.
I did, as I thought of looking back,
and saw two eyes peep up. Grey white furry head attached.
They seemed to say to me, I am sorry.
I heard mews then, I knew.
My Babay, a stray I took in when I  lost her, was nursing four of
earth's miracles.
I haven't cried as much since Jan 7th.
I fed her tuna milk.
and, bought me a big
cigar, alternating,
between memories,
and the newness of life.

Little kitty, how do you do it?
You tickle me so, like you knew it,
Like  you knew that turn of head
Would drag me right out of my bed
To come play with you with string
And a whiffle ball and most anything
That dangles or wobbles and bounces
So you can prepare for a grand pounce.

You delight me, little cat, immensely
And I am quite sure that eventually
You’ll grow into being a lazy cat
To fat to fight, or play or even spat.
But you’re a kitty now and there are
Kitty fairies around like falling stars
Ready for you to be very wary of
And for me to wish upon with love.

Yes, little kitty, you are the true star
In the heaven of my life now, you are
What I miss when I go to work, and
When I return just as I planned
There you are, yawning from a nap
Ready to crawl into my welcoming lap
And ready to play a little bit more or
To just go back to sleep and kitty snore.

I deliberate.
I contemplate.
I procrastinate.

Then I write in ink...

In the hopes
of capturing
all that swims unruly
and speaks in runes.