Mine is four-footed and feline ancient,
hopping up on the towel-covered box
next to my desk, eager to join me—

or the banana nut muffin I have
thoughtlessly moved out of her reach.
Poki is old and limpy, but if I

get a muffin for myself, no matter
where she is in the house, my mews
will find it—though what she really

wants is to nibble the crumbs left
on the paper muffin cup, a tiny
bit of sweetness in what I think of

as her last years, possibly months.
Don’t we all look for the opportunity
to sit with them, sometimes with

a single cry? I’m here, I love you,
please share a little bit of you
with me.