death writes
in tears
that dry
death remembers
with hands
that take
~
Every morning, I see the bones of Naanaa.
I have no picture of him,
not anymore,
but his purr still rumbles
and his paws still steal silent -
and acrobat dancing on heartstrings,
singing his joy in requiem.
~
When my soul wanders away again,
and night comes to take my vision,
I'll wait for daylight in your dreams.
Light my candle, dear,
and I'll wonder through your thoughts;
hold close my photos, dear,
and I'll see you in my eyes.
Someday you'll wander with me again,
when night falls on your vision -
we'll wait for daylight, you and me,
dreaming in the darkness.
~
 |
| To Naanaa, whose bones still watch over me, my sentinel kitty, the hunter whose death still haunts me: I see you today and every day, and I love you. |
~
This post brought to you by witches in fiction 2015: death rites and remembrances.
