Night in the mind

So fragile
our dying abyssinian

I see her sitting
summers ago
tawny gold
in the sun just there
down the grassy path

fell off the foot
of the bed
the clumsy thump
woke me to

I carried her to
a new safer nest
on the floor
gently softly
as her exhausted mistress finally slept
lifted her floppy furry head
summoned breathed
the light of the universe
into her
offered her
a sip of water

she drank the water
gulped it
her parched throat
once closed
now swallowed

for the first time
in four days

she was reviving
in the light

I heal with
I have only to breathe
to her

I must summon
the guides and mentors
I must breathe the
light into her

I contemplate the curvy
woman dancing
her gold clad
softness before me
I engage in her
musky plans
for future fun
in exotic overheated rooms

the cat struggles to breathe
this is not a dream

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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