You Come Back To Me (Day 146)

 Katja, on hand-crocheted ripple blanket

In the strong line of my pen, 

you come back to me—

playful, an acrobat, more sure 

of your skill than I, but you

prove yourself, and, high 

above us find a view that 

inspires your frequent high-wire 

displays, much to my dismay. 

In the light of a midnight moon, 

you come back to me—

ghostly presence just beyond 

my toes, leading me through 

darkness on the route I always 

follow, then you take me back 

to bed and perch, a quiet 

presence, near my head, and 

I slip into sleep hearing you

purr, my fingers tangled in 

your luxurious fur. 

In the still moments before I wake,

you come back to me—again, 

alight in the rose-gold morning 

glow, solemn, silly, cherished 

little friend, somehow you 

always know my dreams are 

at an end, my eyes about to open, 

and, mysterious as joy, you’re 

there to meet me, the sweetest 

way to greet another day.

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six