coming to our senses
first i had a cough now
has a cough we keep each other
awake so we take
sleeping on the couch like
two old people who need
rest more than they need their
love for better for
in sickness and in health what
does it say about us if we cannot sleep
through such a trifle as this
perhaps it says lord help us we've become sensible
In the morning I ask her about this now found sensibility. She has just come from the bedroom. I'm at the table having tea. She comes and stands next to me. I put one arm around her hips, and rest my head against her belly. My free hand finds its way up and under her nightgown.
"Are we two Old People?" I ask.
She makes a face, which I interpret to mean no way José, then coughs. Then coughs some more.
I sigh. Old or not, she is a sick little kitten, and I kiss her soft little kitten tummy, and rise to make her a cup of tea with honey and lemon.
From the kitchen, and out the window, I see it is a foggy morning in the city, gray and chilly. The sun is somewhere to the east, yet to be seen. Crows are making their awful, belligerent, morning racket. I think of the day ahead, and work, and if she will go to work, too, or call in sick and miss her classes. We do seem like Old People with real world problems, first-world problems though they may be. I guess the reality is, we may not be old, but we are older that we were yesterday.
In the living room I hear, cough cough, and the chords she is strumming.
Poetry by one trick pony
Read 110 times
Written on 2019-08-10 at 07:15
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