oh how brief

the ice melts
in the glass
of Black Bush
and my mind
like the ice
into memories
of shared bottles
of old friends
of time past
and oh how brief
ice lasts
in a glass

the questions

there is a world
out there
beyond the window screen
and as he feels
the breeze brush his face
on this mild winter day
he wonders
what would life be like
outside the safety
of this house
and the cat
looks back
at me
as if I had
all the answers
to all the questions
in both of our heads

unfinished business

it can be called
unfinished business
though business
is not the word
I would prefer
the letters unanswered
the phone calls ignored
those messages unopened
on apps neglected
’tis the season
these take on
an urgency
they lack eleven months
a year
the past the present
converging once more
and I must consider
what to leave behind
what to take forward
into the new year
just outside
my door

other plans

light filters in
this new morning
after wind after rain
the night before
I put aside the book
I was reading
and try to rise
but the cat
firmly anchored
in my lap
refuses to let me go
ah life
like this cat
has other plans
for me