Poem: widow’s window

widow’s window

My husband has died
a casket applied
with fire collide
death’s mist satisfied.

Thoughts of him brew
they cook and they stew
rains came and storms blew
for years these I knew.

One morning a sun
warm days now begun
life’s strings I can strum
my heart starts to hum.

Betrothed no more
stand at the door
feet on the floor
light shines afore.

My soul feels him still
and wants with a will
that marches the drill
of love’s easy thrill.

But now is my time
the present is mine
a future is prime
and all comes out fine.


My husband died from an aortic dissection at a young age (the inner wall of the artery over his heart broke), and every September on the pier at sunrise I write at least one letter to him in my journals on my life so far. In 2010 I wrote letter after letter until this, my first poem, came on the 8th anniversary. I felt like the poem did not come from me, but wrote itself. I get the feeling of marching when I read it.

Richard Bullock Jr. (12/13/54 to 9/12/02)

Poem: Lion Kitty, Lion Kitty

WHAT'S UP ? !!

WHAT’S UP ? !!

Here’s my favorite cat, Lion Kitty. He adopted me and I didn’t even know it until I saw him in my bedroom closet. I don’t know how long he had been in there. I wrote a poem about our first meeting in 2007. He’s a big Maine Coon, 18 pounds.

Lion Kitty, Lion Kitty,
On a dresser, crouching pretty,
Hidden secret in the closet,
Oh how long lay this deposit?

First surprise, then trepidation.
Meet cat eyes with hesitation.
Who is this?   this animal !
Feral?   Tame?   Implacable?

To it I proposed this question:
Who are you?   Why this possession?
Uttered I, nonplussed but subtle,
Suppressed fear, no wish to startle.

Then slow reaching, (foolish thinking!),
Lightest touching, gentle fondling,
Deeper, smoother, lightly tickling,
Tilted head gives way accepting.

Coarse low sound of downy purring,
Cup its chin, the bone I’m feeling,
Knowing now it can be trusting,
Its new human will be caring.

Now I’m reaching, two hands lifting,
Muscles tense as we are shifting,
Oh so heavy, large and curling,
Over hands, then arms unfurling.

Cat is mine in a few seconds,
It owns me, its stare now beckons.
Feline paws reach and scan,
Stripes of brown – dark and tan.