The cats cries echo with a hollow, aching sound,
knocking against a dream's foggy walls
I roll over & curl up in the heavy quilt my grandmother made,
my wretched knot of a mop of hair
flying, lying all around me
a baby monitor squawks its static noise and soft snores over my head
lying back to back with you, my cold, bare feet to yours
mornings don't seem so insufferable
I believe I can conquer this morning's moment, this day
I can make it more than yesterday
I can make myself new again
You leave for purpose, for wholeness
A great wide expanse of emptiness left beside me
I hear your old truck rattle, crank and shift out the drive
loneliness doesn't stay for long as the dog sneaks up
next to me, curling into a cold hard ball of fur
lying back to back with me
I know I need to rise. I know I need to answer her cries.
I need a moment to be, to think, to find...something.
I stare at the clock, at the ceiling, at the cats obscure stares
Why do my hands always feel empty, even when full?
Please, little girl, little darling tiny one,
just let me have my morning cup of tea.
You may have not written poetry for awhile, but you sure have not LOST your talent! This is moving and beautiful!
ReplyDeleteThanks, but you're my Mom, you're supposed to say kind stuff to me. It's sort of an unspoken rule...but thank you, and I love you too!
ReplyDeleteJess this is great! I've loved your work from the first time I read it in the BCR. You are such a great writer. I had not known you were a poet as well! :) It feels like my morning that has been on repeat for years! Now its a certain puppy that won't let me have my cup of tea!!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Kerry. I appreciate it!
ReplyDelete