Saturday, March 9, 2019

together in the sunshine

more than the pain of my own sense of loss
i feel the pain of his
they knew each other's warmth in the womb
and every night for the 13 years of life they shared on earth
now the nights are colder for one
at some point every night
he wakes
and i hear him crying
in the dark
sometimes a frantic succession of short mews    
sometimes in low drawn out moans
i can hear him saying
“billy isn't here...
where is billy?”
and soon after
he jumps onto the foot of the bed
and walks up onto my belly or chest
and meows softly
telling me
“billy isn't here”
sometimes he stays for a moment
settling down on top of one or the other us
before slipping off again into the dark
i lie awake for a while with my heart aching for him
because i cannot find for him his lost brother
cannot explain to him where he has gone
during the day
he often naps on the bed
sometimes the sunlight coming through the window
washes over him at just the right angle
and i can see a series of dark stripes and spots
just like billy's
showing through from under his glossy black coat
and as i look at him
sleeping peacefully
i wonder if he dreams of being with his striped brother again
pressed to his familiar furry warmth
napping together in the sunshine