The first sign was the cat
that ran up to us on the street,
he rubbed against us and lay down for a scratch.
I thought it would be that’s that
but three more we were to meet,
a peculiar encounter with an odd batch.
No matter how you pull or how you yank it,
there’s something about those blankets
that make you feel cold.
The only time that a person has one
is when it’s near their time to come;
not destined to grow old.
That night on the TV, there was Bette Midler
in one of my favorite movies
we used to say she reminded us of you.
But the resemblance to her
you said you had failed to see,
I guess it all depends on the point of view.
No matter how they sow when they make it,
there’s something about those blankets
that make you feel cold.
The patterns of the quilt may be appealing
but it’s heat and fate it’s sealing,
to never grow old.
A cardinal came the day after you passed
it was the first bird Kate had at the feed,
I said “I think that’s her saying her goodbye.”
I hope that bird’s not the last
that we’ll ever see because I need
to know you’re still around with her and I.
No matter if you deny or if you thank it
there’s something about those blankets
that make you feel cold.
I’m sure I’ll make use of it enough,
if I’m built so tough
that I can grow old.