The Unopened Mouse
Black kitty, my sweet cat.
The memory you left behind,
A small cardboard delivery box—
To you, it must have been a micro-universe.
And close to my bed,
Near my notebook where I look at the screen,
Sits the backup mouse
I bought for the frantic Nasdaq futures trading.
Unable to forget you,
Who has departed from me,
I just sit on my bed,
Gazing and gazing at you,
The you who is no longer visible.
Yet, I must sleep on this bed.
But my feet keep drifting over to that spot,
Inadvertently pushing your space away.
Then, the memory floods back.
Because I never, ever want to push
Your precious memory away,
Before I know it, I curl up tightly like a grub,
And fall asleep.
And then, I awake.
And that memory comes alive once more.
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