~
manicured greenery floats
the swirling mist gives the yard
the feel of a arena rock concert
and at any moment Mic Jagger might pop
up from below microphone in hand
asking if Saint Louis was indeed
ready to party
instead a black and white Manx trots
in through the fog
looks up at my figure silhouetted in the window
and mouths some feline
morning greeting
if I were the type to drink coffee
now would be the perfect instant for a sip
followed by a nod and a long satisfied “Aaaaahhhhhh”
but this is not my life
so I press my hand against the frigid pane
until the pain becomes all I can think about
and both the cat
and visions of Jagger
fade into to dawn /
