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Tom Clausen
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as I sit in thought
she moves briskly
around the room,
stirring the chill
in the air
this complete enigma
of me wanting more solitude
then company in turn
on my terms
at just the right time
wondering if this is what
my parents felt,
in their own time
seeing a better past slip
ever further behind
all these years
in one house, one job
one town and in me―
too many changes to fathom
as I sweep away autumn leaves
those two birds flying
so close together
swiftly across the twilight sky―
a certain happy sad witness
I provide for them . . .
that point
in the evening
when both cats are in place
quietly bathing
while I read . . .
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