Some hours when her grandmother was dying

Some hours when her grandmother was dying, she sang to her a lullaby -- something she learned among trees and stars a long time ago.
When her cat was dying, though in agony she could barely get the sounds out, she sang the same again.
Same year. Different months.

She doesn't know what the sounds of the lullaby mean but they live in her and she sings them.

As dusk arrived on a mostly grey day in December

As dusk arrived on a mostly grey day in December, she stood in a long corridor.
In the quiet and under fluorescent light, she paused deliberately.
One breath, two...
With care, she removed the paper qualifier.
Took it home to paste in a book.

The white cat loved the blue couch

The white cat loved the blue couch, most recently, loved curling up on the left side.
I would sit on the right, sometimes press my feet in close beside her.
She died three days ago.
She was 15.
The hole now in my heart is huge.