TWENTY-FOUR DAYS LATER

Even now I often startle

seeing a window open -

and then I remember.

Six years of keeping

windows and doors tightly

shut to keep a furball in,

so that a black tail

wouldn't be seen vanishing

outside, like it now

has vanished into death,

under a rock on the yard,

into memories.

03.08.2024

Poem Poems Poetry Verse

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