More kitten

Got to get back into writing. 

Thanksgiving plans have changed. We are driving north to find the son, picking up the daughter on the way, This will be good. Very good. We may even bring leftovers home to the cats.

The kitten has a tail

Bigger than the rest of her,

A black stripe

Down her nose,

A chirp which serves

A constant reminder

She is there

For leftovers.

The kitten

Loves the bran sludge

In the bottom

Of the cereal bowl,

And anything round

She can pick up and carry

Bottle caps,

Milk rings.

She adores shredding napkins

And leaving them

By the side of the bed

For us to find.

Biggest difficulty

I had a series of dreams last night.  Interspersed were periods of wakefulness during which I worried about how I would drink my coffee this morning.  Yes, really.  I awakened to find the Sunday story from inwardoutward.org.  A reflection on the broken pieces.  Somehow just what I needed to hear.

The biggest difficulty

This morning

Is a lack of milk or cream

For my coffee.

So I eat yogurt

In tandem

With sips of coffee.

Now I will go to church

To hear about                    

The feeding of the five thousand,

The twelve baskets

Of broken pieces

Left over.