by D.E. Ritterbusch
My daughter sends me
a photograph of her cat, her lone cat,
lying on her bed next to two other
cats, her boyfriend’s cats
that have just moved in.
They seem to like being together,
no turmoil over the turf,
no petty jealousies
evinced as they lie there, resting
in a cat’s repose.
I think of times lying next to my wife,
just lying there, no movement,
merely an occasional touch,
a hand trailing lightly
along the arm, the shoulder.
It is as if we were cats;
nothing profound escapes our lips,
nothing of importance
to communicate, to fill the silence.
What is profound is the silence,
the touch, the recognition
that this space is filled,
that words are an unnecessary encumbrance
like an additional blanket
when we are already warmed enough.
About the Author:
D.E. Ritterbusch is the author of seven poetry collections, the latest of which is entitled All the Wealth and Splendor. He is a retired Professor of English and was twice selected to be the Distinguished Visiting Professor in the Department of English & Fine Arts at the US Air Force Academy. His creative work is currently being archived in La Salle University’s Special Collections Department.