Futon


Futon

The old Futon is gone, with it
pieces of my past
But not the memories they last

Thick and thin, fire and ice
Long sleepless nights when
My wounds, tears and sorrow
Melted onto its comforting firm surface

It held my cats, all gone but one
Twelve years, is that a life time for a futon?
So much has happened much of it
With the futon somewhere in the background

Worn through the years and yes
peed on by the cat, a sign of affection perhaps
Now the cat is gone
It’s been a month, an eternity

I mourn the cat, I do
Still hearing his meow
Seeing him curled up on the surface of a futon
That isn’t there anymore

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