OpenLinkNight — Way to go

If I were told, It is terminal, 
time is short, get your affairs
in order.....

the only affairs I would get

in order would be the purchase

of a one-way ticket to the lush

land of the Spirit Bear who visits

my dreams and loves me well, and

a lightweight pack with provisions:

some smoked salmon and bread

for my final meal, and

many fish to unwrap and place

on the mossy earth with baby ferns

and ancient trees nearby.  I would

lay down there and call to Them,

If you want these treats you'll have 
to come through me. Please.






Written for OpenLinkNight, week 129, at dVerse Poets Pub, where Grace penned an inspiring prompt.

[Image by Natural Resources Defense Council - The Earth's Best Defense. Visit the link to learn, take action, donate!]
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Cirrus — dVerse Open Link Night

 

 
Cirrus

A pure wisp of white with pink radar ears
Huge golden eyes too wise for her years

Contented purr rumbles sound from her soul
Capacity food level found in her bowl

Stereo-perched strikes statue sleekness
A focused Pentax her only weakness

Her peaceful refinement my heart did capture
I share her world. I know cat rapture.


 ^.^

For dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night. There are many wonderful poems at the link!

I wrote this poem about one of my favorite-ever cats. It was published in Cats Magazine decades ago. Cirrus lived for 15 years, dying near Thanksgiving time. I have never gotten over losing her, not really, as she was with me during a tumultuous time in my life and I am not sure how I would have fared without her devotion.


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trust at twilight

Going Home by Igor Zenin

If I were you I'd
remember this day and
the way your dad's tobacco
mingles with the smell
of the horse, and with the
seductive fullness of the air
at gloaming, in a blend
of musky smoke, sweet
grass, and magic
so familiar
there is color-character-form
to the concoction and you
might create it again
someday for Guerlain and
name the fragrance trust.

Your hair will have been
cut years before your
career begins. Still, if
I were you, I would
remember the taste of the
tips of those braids
when you sucked them
and the strange sensuality
in that act,
and the soft sentimentality
you will feel when pressing
those bright leaves
in between the covers
of twilight.

Written for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets hosted this week by Joe Hesch. 

(Am linking in spite of being too late to actually sign in.)
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