poem of the day 09.01.11

bag of bones

she is a bag of bones

i touch the hard nodules
on her spine

a bag of bones

but she is mine

and she is dying
as the summer is dying

sneezing and losing weight

becoming less and less of a cat

her hair frayed
her eyes pink and watery
her teeth rotting

snot drying in her nose

her brittle body resting by the warm
engine of the refrigerator

she is a bag of bones
and she is mine

but there is nothing i can do for her

except run more tests
and more tests

done only to satisfy myself
done only to keep her
in my gray world a little bit longer

so there is nothing left
but to love this bag of bones

this sweet kitten

my old girl

rub her ears
bless the nodules
clean the snot
and comb the hair

keep her safe and warm

full bellied
as best as i can

as the life seeps slowly
out of her

taking a small part
of mine too

with each passing
expectant day

that we still have together
on this incomprehensible
planet