la cuisine du chat

granite vinyl floor
false wood boxes
mac and cheese coffee tins
purple bran cereal bowls
window facing south
just the five freeway
somewhere on the fridge
the phone buzzes Van
shimmies face to face
with those wild nights
cat food plate just a few
orange crumbs left
of the meal she ate
water boiling rolling steam
tea leaves lemon and green
zen light amongst the top of tree
tail wound around her paws
a few splintered thoughts
snug between my head
two souls listening
as the city birds chirp
for her and me

esta noche

rosewood arm wrapped tight

moon slice robin egg blue black freckles

beyond the shadow of the spider’s web silvery dew hangs

the heart stopped years ago so quiet it is the invisible steps of the spiders weaving up their net amplified in the violet breeze

my glance molded inside the grip of the cup bitter and heavy

life weeps through the slits of my old old eyes

breath too weak to move spider threads evaporate into a darkness

mbrazfield (c) 2020