Monday, December 19, 2011

Warmth -- Poetry 2011

Any touch, a hand resting lightly on the arm

during conversation manifested nostalgia.

Pausing to think of this elemental departure,

the devastation of losing physical connection

made it even harder to remember loves embrace.

Indifferent to being the committable old-lady-with-cats,

her one fuzzy friend complimented a humble home’s d├ęcor.

Found mewing, “My world is cold; my world is hunger”,

the wee companion was no match for human intimacy

till curled up purring, “You are my world and my warmth…”


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