Daily Poem Practice Sept 4
****A practice inspired by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer's A Hundred Falling Veils ****
Low Lighting
This isn't the poem
I wanted to write.
I wanted to tell you
about my new light
a hand made lamp
stone like, from a friend
moon shaped, a hollow
wreath, as soft as such
in its glow.
Instead, I have to tell you
and my daughter, and son
and baby, that Pudding the
cat has gone missing, and
living where we live, we
all know what that means...
Farewell, sweet therapy cat!
my grief for you feels
like a soft light
far off in the distance;
one I walk bravely
toward, at my own
pace. reluctantly
so.
