Monday

From the living room window
the park’s got a honeydew filter
and the cockies are early in
to shred some elm flowers.

The pear tree’s mostly in leaf
shadowed by the white confetti
of its previous glory and the little
crabapple droops with pink memories.

Milk’s nearly out and I cook porridge
a single hotplate resting on bare 
water-proof ply.  The stove gave up
just three months after Warranty.

It’s schooling from home and our 
second full day of missing the cat.
The kitchen taps gleam in the stringers
from the sun’s early morning scaffolding 

as it climbs up the sky. Outside 
between pine fingers, I can see 
the two blueberries in huge clay pots, 
nodding flowers and the little grave. 

I take my porridge mixed with seeds
and yoghurt and let the recliner
nurse my hips as I try to get on board
with the day’s schoolwork.

The little white dog looks askance
from near my toes.  I click and he’s
up curling into my hips, soft
as whispers,  flops his small

square nose onto my thigh
and sighs as if to say.
“Don’t worry, you great oaf.  
I can be a cat for you.”

Written for Miz Quickly’s October 11 Prompt – “Monday”

8 thoughts on “Monday

  1. Trees and foliage, porridge and sunlight and the busy-ness of schoolwork are some consolation, I suppose, but a faithful dog attempting to ease your cat-grief. is immeasurable. Fine crafting here. Thanks. Condolences.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s