Home

I'm so fuckin glad to be home.... some days you feel that way after you been gone all day? Oh god, the feel of my sheets and the smell of my pillow, it's just ... man, a relief. Everything is a sloooowin' down for the day and evenings comin' on. The trees are like bursts of fireworks ~ everywhere I went today on the road was like driving into a dripping painting.... the colors even came into my car in reflection of the redorangeyellow rain splashes in glass. It's clearing now and the sky is turned a grey blue and the far flung sun's floating down behind neighbor Kathy's Tulip tree, white, not gold.

Nick laying here with me wants me to write a poem about Baby Kitty. O.k. ahem...

(I'll steal part of an old one I wrote about another cat I had):

She lays upon her feather down
in her silent place
beside the cabin of solace
the wind moves cold
and the brisk air weaves
gold, brown, red into a rustling blanket
that covers her ground
which she pays no mind
and it does not disturb her quiet purring
or dreams of ancient tigers
and hunting on warmer plains...

I been tol' I gots me some comp'ny comin' by.... I love my people, but my goodness I could draw a bath and lotsa bubbles and go under and you'd see nothin' but my nose and toes. But I guess I will have to rustle up some supper....