Tuesday, June 13, 2017

You Come Back To Me (Day 146)


 Katja, on hand-crocheted ripple blanket

In the strong line of my pen, 
you come back to me—
playful, an acrobat, more sure 
of your skill than I, but you
prove yourself, and, high 
above us find a view that 
inspires your frequent high-wire 
displays, much to my dismay. 

In the light of a midnight moon, 
you come back to me—
ghostly presence just beyond 
my toes, leading me through 
darkness on the route I always 
follow, then you take me back 
to bed and perch, a quiet 
presence, near my head, and 
I slip into sleep hearing you
purr, my fingers tangled in 
your luxurious fur. 

In the still moments before I wake,
you come back to me—again, 
alight in the rose-gold morning 
glow, solemn, silly, cherished 
little friend, somehow you 
always know my dreams are 
at an end, my eyes about to open, 
and, mysterious as joy, you’re 
there to meet me, the sweetest 
way to greet another day.



(c) 2017, by Hannah Six