Breathing

Breathing.

My cat goes up and down
on my chest.
It is not me that she loves,
but my breath.
Up and down, up and down,
she rides the gentle pendulum,
infinitely soothed.
If I have to move,
have to remove her
from my breath,
she departs with a grief,
and longs to return
as soon as I will permit.
Breathing.
My cat knows what counts;
not love, not my smell,
not my scratching of her ears:
just my breath.
Where she lives,
where I live.
Breathing.

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 )

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s