Wildy the Journeyman (into_the_wild) wrote,
Wildy the Journeyman

:: You Used To ::

:: You Used To ::

You used to sit near the bedside, maintaining a little distance,

And stare, in your habitual silence. You would then slowly edge closer,

Jump onto the corner of the bed, and settle down comfortably.

You used to gait lightly along the edge of the bedframe, as if

You were at the top of the world, and then be stuck, such that

We would have to carry you down onto the ground once more.

You used to try to pry open the bathroom glass panel with your right paw,

The gateway to your freedom, to the rest of the house,

And then you would take your seat at your favorite armchair,

The one closest to the window, and bask nonchalantly in the sunlight,

As the world moved on with its business. The sunlight still shines

Through the windows onto the chair, but the chair has been empty for

A few days now. What remains is the sunken imprint of your weight on

The cotton cushion of your favorite chair; the embodiment of your

Presence, calm and detached, as the world and its affairs scurry away.

Tags: diary, franc franc, poem

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