Fantasy sea

Fluffy cat with sweet orange fur,
Watch it pounce, watch it purr,
leave me happiness in a champagne bottle,
To drink when I see my sweet cat.

She was a runt, a babe, a gem in a litter,
Required no time, no love, no sitter,
Yet at 10 years to the day I found her so quiet,
sitting and staring but not really seeing,
And I brought her to a man who said he could heal,
Yet he could not heal what he could not heal,
and told that death claimed my sweet cat that sorrowful night.

Now she is the earth, the sky, the sea,
Where she can play and move so lovely,
To pounce on her prey made of sticky white clouds,
And lay in a bed made of thornless rose bushes.

Concrete Mercy

Once when you were 7 you scraped your knee against the concrete,
It bit wounds into your skin with cold, infectious kisses,
and your mother tended to your tears and scrapes back at your homely nest.

Once when you were 18 you slept fitfully on the concrete,
It became your bed and blanket when no one else would provide,
and your mother felt guilty but your father said it was for the best.

Once when you were 23 you saw the concrete rush to meet you,
It greeted you as an old friend and delivered what none could ever give,
and your mother never got rid of that gaping hole of guilt inside her chest.