Day: November 30, 2017

A white kitten

given to me
by an elderly
woman
who always
sat in her
garden;
she stank
of
rose-water
and
wisteria.

That night it
stormed and
the kitten
cried.

It got on Daddy’s
nerves, he said, so
he put the kitten
outside
on the porch
in the storm.

The next
morning
I found it
wet and
shivering
where it
had fallen
through a
hole in

the porch.

I wrapped it
in towels

and sat with it
by a heater

and held it
while it

shivered until
it died.

What can I say
to you Daddy,
now as dead
as my kitten?

I did not give
you the honor
of a Son’s
good-bye.

Somehow, I kept
that storm in my
mind

And locked you
into it

---

(c) Robert Goldstein 2014-2017 All rights reserved

 

Save

Save