Another Poem About Waiting {what I learned from my Grandson’s cat}


Tabby in the sunlight stares
while I fix my eyes, watching him
watch, alert to any stirring that would
ensure life is present– a whisker, a whisper,
anything to reveal even one breath of sure
thing in spite of what he sees.
I wait, too, for that subtle unfolding.

Writing poetry is one way I process the world.

If you’d like to read more of my poems, click HERE for my book “Hearts on Pilgrimage Poems & Prayers”or HERE for links to my other work.

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