Why I Live Alone
a final revision
I live alone in a big house
With Erin’s cat, Mr. P.
When she died, two years ago,
He was an ornery fourteen.
I drive out to the cemetery
A few times a month now,
Sit on the ground by Erin’s stone.
I tell Erin I love her.
She knows, but likes hearing
Me say it. I tell her I love her
Every day, all day long.
She rolls her eyes, is gone.
© slovitt 2020
Views: 3532
Real, sensitive poetry, that easily induces strong feelings of empathy, and pain of loss in the reader and that because of its simple honesty, because it needed to be told in a way the recipient would easily recognise. Very moving.
Goth
goth: thanks for your comment. swep
I’m almost lost for words! Your preciseness is brilliant, and although I felt your pain and loss, it was nevertheless enriching to read.
Griffoner: high praise, high interaction. thanks, Swep