For some reason we’re talking about cats,
Nowhere near where I want to be in the conversation.
I have nothing really to say about cats,
The ground between cats and the subject of my interest
Seems vast and tricky as sheer ice, with many pitfalls
That might derail us enroute-
Cats are at least a safe ground,
Nobody is going to walk out while talking about cats.
Her coffee cup is nestled in her fingertips,
She is cradling it as if it is a small bird
She is preparing to let go free.
I know she is waiting for it to fall in temperature
As she only ever drank her coffee near cold
I am making calculations on how long it might be before
She will lift her cup and begin drinking,
Hastening the moment before she will rise to leave.
All the while I’m trying to fathom how
I can make that leap in conversation
Away from cats and back to us
But us seems light years away now,
It seems another galaxy entirely
Another dimension where perhaps
We’re sat at a similar table drinking coffee
And the subject of us has been settled long ago
And the subject of cats the latest in a line
Of trivial conversations that are the luxury
Of two lives spent together.
No comments:
Post a Comment