After sunny late winter weather, a
cold snap — time to retrieve my
jacket, turn the heaters on already
at 3pm.
Cold gloom outside,
a hint of drizzle.
I close out the world.
Keeping my small cat
safe and comfortable
here with me — what
could matter more?
Time, at last, to go through my late husband’s papers. My stepdaughter comes from Melbourne, giving moral support with practical help.
One box for what she wants,
one for things I’ll keep,
one to chuck.
Do you remember…?
Did you know…?
Were you there when…?
Wasn’t he the dearest man?
If you need to assemble something complicated,
such as a new bench-top kitchen trolley, make
sure you have a good neighbour!
One prepared to sit
and crawl around
on your kitchen floor.
If there was one screw missing,
would he go fetch one from his house?
What do you think?
Oh, the dark comes down. Close the curtains,
switch on the oil heater, lay a blanket by it so
my little cat can hug it all night.
It’s only 5pm.
With dark comes cold.
With cold, unease.
What was it in childhood
made the cold (not the dark)
so deeply to be dreaded?
Yes, I have fallen in love with the liwuli. I hear tell that other poets all over the internet have done so too.
One will have to go first. I’m older, but we’re
close in age and, I think, health. Either might
be left asking how, then, she’ll navigate.
Keepers
of all each other’s secrets
till death, and beyond –
how will it feel, when one can’t tap
the other’s understanding
and point of view?
Keep enemies close? No, I excise them out of my life. Block from phone, email, facebook. Move off their radar; remove them from mine.
I know of only four. One
(a jealous colleague)
has died.
What are your memories of me now –
you others, whose fierce love
turned fiercer hate?
Trying a liwuli, which I learned from dsnake1.
