Poems

Today Is My Birthday

I saw it laying still
Across the street;
That was yesterday;
Still there today.

A shovel in one hand,
Black trashbag in the other,
I quickly cross the street.

Scooped it up, one hand holding the shovel
And trying to hold that bag open with the other
But the breeze is too strong–
Blows the trashbag closed,
Blows the birthday thoughts
Right out of my brain.

I look down, see its empty eye socket, and think again:
I live a dream
And that cat is dead,
For real.

There’s life,
Then there’s our lives.

But there’s only life.

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