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16 October 2015

bits of death, as remembrances

death writes
in tears
that dry

death remembers
with hands
that take


Every morning, I see the bones of Naanaa.
I have no picture of him,
not anymore,
but his purr still rumbles
and his paws still steal silent -
and acrobat dancing on heartstrings,
singing his joy in requiem.


When my soul wanders away again,
and night comes to take my vision,
I'll wait for daylight in your dreams.

Light my candle, dear,
and I'll wonder through your thoughts;
hold close my photos, dear,
and I'll see you in my eyes.

Someday you'll wander with me again,
when night falls on your vision -
we'll wait for daylight, you and me,
dreaming in the darkness.


To Naanaa,
whose bones still watch over me,
my sentinel kitty,
the hunter whose death still haunts me:
I see you
today and every day,
and I love you.

This post brought to you by witches in fiction 2015: death rites and remembrances.