Sunset Eyes
Sean walks, his legs crisscross
and gold eyes stare, unfocussed
he breathes short gasps
tiger pelt on a skeleton
my ginger cat roams restless
across the world terrain of home;
the tumour in his brain
spreads webs,
he falls on his side, his skull
a paper weight drop.
I pick him up; his breath,
waterfall slips through my hands
in summer heat
his paws cold, he looks in my eyes
locked gaze, a great cry
across the city block, we clasp:
chin drops, loosed limbs, eyes close, a seam
of gold left seen, now kitten-like.
Annie Bien
Posted over on Adroitly Placed Word
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