MY MOST GRIEVOUS FAULT
(Pushkin, cat, white and orange, 1992-September 2006)
Only later did I realize I'd failed
to shut her eyes, and now
I'd be pursued by her Fury
(appropriate to her), yowling
"You forgot me but you won't
make that mistake again!"
In the presence of Death
I wanted only to flee, leave her
prone on a metal table,
robbed of all sense--except she knew
I believe in spirits of the Faithful Departed
just as she did and does
believe in her companion Miles,
four years dead, the cat she still sees
not in Elysium or Heaven
but in her fierce memory,
in dreams forgiving slights
even as they live on in her
to hand now to me to recall her
golden eyes glowing dull and open
in a fluorescent room,
no more to say except
she will not let me rest
nor would I wish to.
KW
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