Kindnesses

A poem

My writing partner, Pookie, at my writing desk

We almost lost our little Pookie this week. We had taken him to the vet for a checkup, and they were doing extra bloodwork because he had lost weight. He panicked and ending up collapsing, and they called us to the back, where two vets were working on him, giving him oxygen and drugs to get his heart rate and blood pressure up. We thought we were going to lose our little guy. He recovered and is now being his usual Pookie self, though we did discover that he has Stage 3 kidney disease. The doctor said he has a year or two left. He’s an eight-year-old blind cat. Pookie is also the sweetest, kindest cat in the world. All he wants is to be loved so that’s what we’re going to do—love him up.

I wrote the poem I’m sharing this week, “Kindnesses,” the day after the election at one of Nelly Bryce’s Poetry Pals poetry circles. I still believe kindness and love will help carry us through these dark times. The poem was also featured this week on Feed the Holy.

Kindnesses

You hand me the cup of coffee, 
fresh brewed, as I walk into the kitchen 
just awake in my stockinged feet.

Each night when I brush my teeth 
my toothbrush has been charged 
because you switch out the plugs each day.

When you go to the store 
how often do you come home 
with something just for me—
this week, It’s It Mini Ice Cream Sandwiches.

The tile patio table I write on 
passed along to us by an acquaintance 
because she knew we liked it.

The hickory rake for the rock garden,
the sloped writing desk in the back bedroom, 
both made by our friend, just for me, just for us.

I take the ingredients out—gnocchi, spinach,
grated parmesan and mozzarella cheese—
and make dinner. Yesterday,
the day after the election and the country fell, 

I sent texts—I love you—to my brother, my mom.
I laughed with a friend last night on Facetime.
Put the trash bags in the can unasked. 

Gathered the redwood needles 
swept from the tree in yesterday’s wind. 
The sun rises each morning, 

some days breaking through the clouds, 
some days not. But it’s there, 
even during the most devastating storms
the sun is there, above the clouds, it rises and falls. 

Just this morning I watched a monarch butterfly 
drink from a Cosmos daisy. 

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Welcome to my new subscribers and thank you to all of you for reading. If you would like to read more of my poetry, my book Gathering the Pieces of Days, celebrates the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of our days. You can get your copy from Unsolicited Press, Bookshop.org, or Asterism.