They go you know:
no matter the dish of tinned tuna,
the nest you build in your own quilts,
the felt mouse
and the ball with pink and yellow stripes
They disappear
into the paths of cars,
into talons and beaks,
into the arms of strangers
and the ravages of private disease
and from their leavings we learn of leaving:
How everything that pads into our lives
soft-footed sleek,
pads out again into the night
leaving traces.
Poem by Nancy Mairs 1984
We miss you Big Boy Minnie,
| Minnie |
| 12, Aug 2006 |
| Mary & Dale |