Together
At 85, the old lady inches slowly
towards her living room
holding firmly to her walker,
her mind is sharp-as sharp as it's ever
been.
Her legs have become weak
with age,
she can no longer see clearly,
any visitors who ring at her door;
nor can she hear them.
Her friends have all passed
leaving her alone,
the last remaining
"Golden Girl."
At 15, the cat sits quietly in
the doorway,
the days of chasing balls and
imaginary birds
have long since passed.
Her body aches with arthritis
and her kidneys are failing.
Reaching her chair, the old lady
slowly lowers herself
careful not to fall.
She raises the footrest
and covers her legs with the quilt
she keeps nearby.
Seeing this silent signal
the old cat moves across the room
and, with great effort
jumps into her lap.
The two, having grown old together
settle into the familar comfort
that each has come to know.
A gentle pet on the head,
a grateful purr
they close their eyes.
Copyright © Mary Benim | Year Posted 2010
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