A Poem for Socks
Sunlight streams through the window
to a spot upon the bed….
then I remember,
it’s where you used to lie,
but now you are no more.
Our feet walk down a hall of carpet,
and muted echoes sound….
then I remember,
It’s where your meows would joyously sound.
A voice is heard in the living room,
up upon the TV stand ,
then I remember it can’t be yours….
your golden voice is still.
But I’ll take that vacant spot of bed
and empty muted hall
and lay them with the absent voice
and empty biscuit bowl
I’ll wrap these treasured memorials
in a blanket of my love
and keep them for my best friend
until we meet above.
