February 14, 2013 § 2 Comments
The roses were about to bloom
on Valentine’s Day, in San Diego,
when our parents woke us with the news
that our cat had had her kittens.
We named you Fluff, at first,
for your soft, soft fur and fluffy tail,
gleaming white and reminiscent
of the color of fresh snow.
In March, beneath Black Mountain,
it was a little glimpse of heaven
to watch you little kittens play
beneath the blooming rosebushes.
You were Bunny, because you were loved
and you were love
on four legs, with a fluffy tail.
You were our heart that beat
outside of us.
It was snowing when you curled up
for the last time on my lap
and let me brush your matted tail clean.
And the storm that rumbled outside,
and drowned a city in white,
could not drown out the purr
that rumbled inside you —
so frail and so mighty.
And the whole world, gleaming and bright,
was reminiscent of you
when they drove you into your sunset
in February, in the city by the sea.
And on Valentine’s Day, in cold Berlin
the storefronts bloom with roses
and remind me of the perfumed ground
where you and your brothers played.