Asleep at My Feet

A Poem

Today, there’s nothing to be done.
I will not be intimidated by the sink
Full of dishes staring me down.
Today, I will sit alone, the
Cat asleep at my feet as if
Death didn’t matter.

Does he think of mortality?
Grapple with impermanence the
Way I do, when looking at your face?

I see the end in wrinkles that won’t iron out,
In cheeks hollowed out by time.
The past grabs me from the TV-screen
Where the kids live trapped in toddlerhood —
Their lives in two dimensions.

Then was a time I smiled a lot,
Kissed my babies and hugged them tight.
I suppose I still do with a pinch of
Desperation for the life that
Seems to evaporate like air
Out of birthday balloons.

But for now, I’ll remember yesterday,
Dream about tomorrow, and leave the
Present asleep at my feet.

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