It’s November [By Andy Madison]
Ground thaws again by mid-morning, I’m up
and my cat doesn’t follow from
The body-print residue on
the mattress; cat grasps
that we take heat where we find it in November
I’ve got coffee and the lawn, the river and the sky are gray;
From this vantage there is blue and there is gray
The leaves were bagged and carted off in yucky piles
By men in stout sweats
And I wonder if I’ll have to live through another flu before
It’s warm
The cat appears at my ankle, and I'm so grateful she's come along.