frosty

in contrast to moonstar’s
black coat, the white of her frost-adorned whiskers
as she meows for dinner
on the woodshed perch
frosty whiskers i say later in a voice
similar to emory’s when his gets squeaky
_______
perhaps there is a name
for this peculiar kind of packing
for a trip that entails
not simply packing what is needed
out of a drawer but rather
pulling the entire drawer out of the dresser
and emptying it
and then putting everything neatly back in
except the things that get tossed
into the ‘to pack’ pile
_______
a sheet of ice cynthia reports from out there
about the roads her and ty have decided
to turn around on

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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

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