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Array ( [sid] => 113386 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Three Days Later [time] => 2006-01-18 12:10:51 [hometext] => ...the seasons change slowly on Earth...perhaps I'm not on Earth... [bodytext] => Three Days Later

Come morning,
without exception,
the back door would be opened,
same tight hinged squeak,
same burst of whatever it was outside trying to get in,
getting in,
and whatever it was inside trying to get out,
getting out,
same streak of auburn cutting past slippered feet,
and flannel clad legs...
...together a meal was eaten,
a liquid refreshment consumed,
leisurely moments absorbed,
and the day ahead pondered...
...speaking different languages,
not much was said...
...when next the door opened,
to run an errand,
get the mail,
shovel snow,
out both would go...

In the early days of a shared existence,
warmth was sought in an accepting lap,
and acknowledged with a contented purr...
affection was sought and given,
and held ever so close,
so close...
...hope had blossomed,
and become knowledge...
...all that was somehow different, now...
terse...
distant...
edged...
...there was a childish air of expectedness,
a film of indiscernible neglect,
a significant lack of appreciation...
...a hiss,
a snarl,
raised fur...
...once, upon reaching for the now empty bowl placed beside the stove,
the hand was suddenly retrieved,
bowl dropped,
and cracked...
...it was a startled reflex,
followed by a foreign sense of amazement at seeing the deep red lines,
parallel paths,
swelling red,
then two large drops dripping,
one smaller orb,
and another even smaller,
onto worn and aged cotton fibers,
an uncommon message,
penned on common fabric...
...moments passed in peculiar awareness,
then,
the astonishment ebbed,
the curtain fell,
the scene ended,
an ordinary paper was sufficiently narcotic,
but,
upon a jean clad thigh,
a crimson ebenezer whispered...

. . .

...three days later,
the crimson spots were sprayed,
washed in a load of darks,
and,
the stains were gone...
...however,
it seems,
the bowl remained cracked,
and,
the ebenezer whispered still.

rko
January 16, 2006
[comments] => 3 [counter] => 467 [topic] => 21 [informant] => enigma [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 16 [ratings] => 6 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )

Three Days Later

Contributed by enigma on Wednesday, 18th January 2006 @ 12:10:51 PM in AEST
Topic: Lifepoems

Three Days Later

Come morning,
without exception,
the back door would be opened,
same tight hinged squeak,
same burst of whatever it was outside trying to get in,
getting in,
and whatever it was inside trying to get out,
getting out,
same streak of auburn cutting past slippered feet,
and flannel clad legs...
...together a meal was eaten,
a liquid refreshment consumed,
leisurely moments absorbed,
and the day ahead pondered...
...speaking different languages,
not much was said...
...when next the door opened,
to run an errand,
get the mail,
shovel snow,
out both would go...

In the early days of a shared existence,
warmth was sought in an accepting lap,
and acknowledged with a contented purr...
affection was sought and given,
and held ever so close,
so close...
...hope had blossomed,
and become knowledge...
...all that was somehow different, now...
terse...
distant...
edged...
...there was a childish air of expectedness,
a film of indiscernible neglect,
a significant lack of appreciation...
...a hiss,
a snarl,
raised fur...
...once, upon reaching for the now empty bowl placed beside the stove,
the hand was suddenly retrieved,
bowl dropped,
and cracked...
...it was a startled reflex,
followed by a foreign sense of amazement at seeing the deep red lines,
parallel paths,
swelling red,
then two large drops dripping,
one smaller orb,
and another even smaller,
onto worn and aged cotton fibers,
an uncommon message,
penned on common fabric...
...moments passed in peculiar awareness,
then,
the astonishment ebbed,
the curtain fell,
the scene ended,
an ordinary paper was sufficiently narcotic,
but,
upon a jean clad thigh,
a crimson ebenezer whispered...

. . .

...three days later,
the crimson spots were sprayed,
washed in a load of darks,
and,
the stains were gone...
...however,
it seems,
the bowl remained cracked,
and,
the ebenezer whispered still.

rko
January 16, 2006

Copyright © enigma ... [ 2006-01-18 12:10:51]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Three Days Later (User Rating: 1 )
by bernard2 on Wednesday, 18th January 2006 @ 12:54:17 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

You have described my last cat in your most excellent poem. Thanks for the memory. bernard2

Re: Three Days Later (User Rating: 1 )
by happybunnyfan on Wednesday, 18th January 2006 @ 04:08:04 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Wonderfull write. As i was reading it felt like i was in the poem. Not many poeple can make there readers do that.
Way to go.

Re: Three Days Later (User Rating: 1 )
by brew on Monday, 23rd January 2006 @ 11:59:15 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Most extradionary, write.
Love reading your posts, as I feel they have inner meanings. Thanks

Brew~

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