Hello! It’s been a while!
By way of update: I’ve been busy. Some writing has premiered. The novel has been edited (and, dear friends, it’s coming, at long last, stay tuned) and a piece of it was published, via audio of mine, on the excellent Selected Prose podcast. And, of course, New York has been New York, with all the attendant strangeness and complexities.
So: today’s post is primarily about putting on the digital record a new version of my poem “two cats passed today.” It was originally published in 2015 by Oddball Magazine. I guess the poem hasn’t changed that much, but it has evolved in ways I feel are important. I also rather like performing it during open mics and such, and I’m often left scrounging through my email inbox to find the latest edit. In conclusion, I’m putting it here. Enjoy.
—
two cats passed today For Peter Caulfield
the edge of the bed is colder now.
you & I place our palms on the spot
where two cats once gathered
to greet & love the hands of friends
that will never feel the same again.
all we can do now is caress the soft blanket
where they slept a lifetime of nights
& wonder about the last reflections
shimmering behind their eyes.
we can never know how they felt
as the light deepened
in a gathering mist of confusion
when the soft touch they knew for years
gave way to a plastic glove,
a long syringe in their fur.
no…we can’t dwell on these images
of the two loved cats who passed today,
thoughts of the last breaths bleeding
out from their rapid-heart chests.
instead, we should remember their vibrations
of joy, the brush of fur against welcome fingertips
that knew the ears & temples & necks
& souls of two cats who never questioned
why they or we were what we were.
they spent their lives touching ours
& making music with their bones.
& though we’ve laid them to sleep
curled up in boxes beneath the soil,
& tears hang like loose strings from our eyes,
we have to do our best to keep moving,
as they did, through the quiet living room
on a warm Cape Cod morning,
no more aware than they
of why our hearts are beating.