layers
scratch loves
his undercoat brush
a simple pleasure
a late moment to pause
by the glaring stone sink
and as often
tonight
i cull old fur from it's
tangled underbrush
in large clumps
of black and white
that roll into grey
the faucet dripping slowly
into the water i left in it for him
fresh and clean
i can feel the icy mountains
beyond the frosty winter window
the cold is here again
and in the amber light of house
a quiet world within
drip drip drip....
surprised
to find i am longing....
for some kind of tool
to carve beneath
my skin
drawing out my
worn out
itchy layers....
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