Our Tara - 1 year anniversary 14th May
As if there’s a hole
in its number 4
skin,
our home-bubble
has
tilted off-centre
and gone askew.
The dog won’t get
out of bed.
The cats don’t
want their food.
I can’t settle,
and pace the house.
We don’t know how
to re-arrange the space
to fill the
shadows
of her silence; everywhere
there’s an empty
space
where the shape
and weight
of Tara, the
Siamese, should be
no more apparent
than now
as I sit down at
my desk
for she’s not here,
tapping
at my knee, asking
for my lap,
then keep me sitting
until
she says we’ve done
enough
writing - time for
a
stretch and a
biscuit break.
My little
Capricorn task-master
who shared my
passion for pens:
for me they’re carefully
chosen tools,
but for her, they
were those
forbidden toys to hide
and
play with later;
two are yet to be
found.
Tara, who left us
her baby, Millie
who is unaware of
anything
other than the joy
of being alive
and skitters
around my feet
alternately
pouncing and tossing
into the air, a bright
yellow peg
asking me to get
off my chair
and share in her game,
with this
Outstanding.
Fantastic.
Totally
marvellous toy .
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