| New Hampshire Writers |
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| The Cat And I On A Winter's Night By Anne Trotter |
The roof sloped down over our heads at a slant, Thick white plaster cut with skylights Covered in snow and submitting only blue to our room. We sat together, you sarcastic, me fiercely deaf To the bitterness that flowed below our feet. You wandered my room, wondering If that was what your life was reduced to now; No teeth, going gray, eating mush. I merely clung to you while the snow muffled the battle below From everyone but us. We'd wait it out, then I'd leave you To sit alone and shed blackly on my pillow While I stomped in the slush. I always came home. You always greeted me at the door, angry. Where had I been for so long? Didn't I know you were worried? Then we'd sit and eat And pretend we had our own place, Somewhere else. |