May #4

Suits Her Just Fine

Pleasure is now

a mug of cocoa, 

an Anzac biscuit

and a fine book to read.

Well, it always was —

but she remembers too

shopping at night in Kathmandu,

or meeting that shaman in Cusco.

She remembers lovers, 

their beautiful faces

and questing minds,

including the three she married.

And oh, she remembers loss,

hands that she held

as their owners died ...

the emptiness of dead bodies.

Now her elderly cat

comes every night

to lie beside her

on the wide bed.

The bed is warm.

The cat purrs.

Pain in muscle and bone

subsides.

— Rosemary Nissen-Wade