Early Morning Visitor
I stare at the keyboard in frustration.
It’s so quiet except the hum of the computer.
A never ceasing
--whirl a whirl a whirl a whirl a--
echoes in my ears.
And every so often a car slices chilly air
as if paper is ripped quickly apart.
Even the birds have abandoned me.
Still snuggled in their nests
on this first real autumn morning.
I wonder when Suzy will visit.
- I miss her.
She’s been gone so long
I’ve forgotten the shape of her torso,
the sound of her voice
and her many changing features.
And while I ponder her absence
I’m treated to several artistic dances.
Prisms glide a mesmerizing waltz
along the office wall.
Willow trees sway in a sensual Hula
against an opalescent backdrop.
Curtains perform the Can-Can
in and out an open window.
The neighbour intrudes my thoughts
her cry,
‘Jesse, Jesse-- here kitty-kitty.’
You can set your watch by it every morn.
That fat orange tabby
who wanders the neighbourhood at night
and leaves traces of his path to freedom
on the roof and hood of my car.
We’ve had many one-sided conversations
he and I.
I know he understands.
He swishes his tail
then blinks two amber orbs that say,
“Get a grip lady, I’m a cat
and I’ll do as I darn well please.”
(And so he does, as often as possible.)
Aroma of coffee waifs the morning breeze
and taste buds order a cup.
That’s when I realize Suzy came today.
I was open to her sights,
her sounds and smell--
while we sat and visited a spell.
By Sandi Alford
© 2008 Sandi Alford
(All rights reserved)
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