I Knew You Enough (Your Big, Beautiful Brilliance)

In remembrance of Celeste

I didn't know you well,
but I knew you enough.
I knew you enough
to miss your big, brown eyes --
eyes that lit up a room
almost as much
as your broad, beautiful smile.
I knew you enough
to miss the fresh perspective
and lighthearted laughter
that you brought
to every corporate meeting
and every friendly conversation.
I knew you enough
to miss the strength and brilliance
you brought to the world
as a woman; as a minority,
and the sense of pride
and courage I felt
as you enlightened
and inspired us all.
I knew you enough
to feel the weight
of the loss
of you
and your big, beautiful brilliance.
I knew you enough
to miss you now.

(Why poetry?)

Why poetry?
Because
moments matter.

(cat dusty)

The last of this week's series I ran in memory of Angel:

cat dusty
from her romp
in the windowsill

(cat in a frenzy)

In remembrance of Angel:

cat in a frenzy:
from the window --
watching falling leaves

My on-Again, off-Again Bedside Companion

In honor of Angel:

She doesn't like to cuddle
or be held.
She likes to be in control,
to call the shots.
She comes
when she's ready.
She comes
to get what she wants
and leave.
And she practices the most
peculiar positions.
She often prefers to rest her head
near my hips
and press herself against me,
begging to be stroked.
When I pet her in just
the right places,
she purrs with pleasure
and lets me know,
in no uncertain terms,
that she's glad to be
my pussycat.

(the cat)

Remembering Angel:

the cat --
my second
alarm clock

Between Catnaps

In memory of Angel:

Her silky, black paw
claimed a red circle
on the pillow
as if to begin
a silent, solo
game of Twister.

(cute:)

In remembrance of Angel:

cute:
a chirp from
my happy cat

My Girl

NOTE: My cat of 14 years, Angel, passed away on Friday.  The following poem is the first in a series I will run this week in her memory.

She knows how to be
cute.
She knows just the
right pose or look
to give me that will
send me into a
state of acute
appreciation --
the kind that seizes
me until I pet her velvet
coat.
She knows the cutest
ways to meow and
purr and stir her paws.

And she knows it.

She knows she's
cute.
And there's no way
I can help myself
from loving and
stroking and cooing
and thinking how
lucky I am to have
found her.

(After the funeral)

After the funeral
I searched my inbox
for any messages I still had from her.

(Live well and love well.)

Live well and love well.
For today is all we have,
so far as we can tell.

1 conversation at work = 2 haiku pieces

$50 bill

floating in the toilet bowl.

Who will free Billy?

~~~~~(These are waves.)~~~~~

$50 bill

in the loo.  Rear admiral

to the rescue!  Phew!

Which one floats your boat?

Haiku for a rainy day:

morning tea after
the morning rain
drop after drop

This week's holiday haiku:

the cardinal
sounding off
like the Fourth of July

with gratitude to Rebecca J. Davenport for a spectacular ending