(a sight for sore and grieving eyes)

(a sight for sore and grieving eyes)

I’d look up to see her

proudly perched atop her cat tower

I’d hold her in my gaze, and call her 

my acrobatic star

I’d watch her leap several feet across the air 

landing atop the second tower with such grace and ease

Her soaring, always

a sight for sore eyes

to behold.

Now when I look up 

in the dark grieving hours of the night

I still call her

my acrobatic star

I watch her bright light fly across the full breadth of the sky 

in perfect form, in perfect peace

Soar, my acrobatic star. 

I’m holding you in my gaze 

until I hold you in my arms again. 

@paige.thepoet