By: Jane Druzhinina
The Old Lady and the Cat
A hot summer day.
She sits on an old peeling chair, talking to the homeless kitty.
Today again, just like yesterday, and the day before yesterday she brought her food.
The kitty accepts the woman’s modest gift, lending her her furry ear.
The woman pets the kitty gently, talking to her almost in a whisper.
This everyday afternoon meeting has become somewhat of a ritual for them, a ritual they follow with faithful precision.
They look forward to it with equal longing, leaving one another with equal satisfaction after.
Just like a mother and a child, they seem to understand each other perfectly.
They cling to each other, they depend on each other, the kitty—for survival, the old lady—well, for survival too.
…the images of war fade, the shelled houses, the wounded children, the dead.
The kitty is busy eating, she’s hungry.
The old lady and the cat, they seem to understand each other perfectly.
I’ll pass my days without your love, without your tender healing,
without hidden meanings, magic spells, broad gestures,
without dreams, escapist roads, distant travels,
without wings, without the stars, without the sky.
I’ll welcome reason, it’ll please my ego.
I’ll keep my feet firmly on the ground, the bruises, scars will no longer break me.
I’ll plan ahead, use my ability to foretell the future.
I’ll choose life and free my soul of the make-believe reliance.
I’ll try…I’ll try to live without you my Don Quixote de la Mancha.
A Broken Cup
A broken cup.
Pieces of porcelain…salty tears.
Pieces of happiness, dreams…slight wrinkles.
A question mark in the back of her mind…a heart torn.
Glimpses of sunshine…thunderstorms.
Hanging on…letting go.
A tube of glue in one hand…her future in the other.
Courage lost, fears multiplied, walls built.
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