Molly Stops By Poem by Bill Galvin

I am lying in the dusk of mind,
Between dream and reality,
Where day of life and night of death meet,
Where souls embrace both the sides,
As we allow ourselves to drift,
And to relax under the anesthesia of sleep,
And to bring our bodies to rest and recharge.

That's when her voice appeared…
Like she was still with me,
Requesting the pre-dawn out-letting,
Or time to pop the lid for dinner,
Or time to jump up for the evening lap.

It jolted me back to full awake…
To respond, to reply, as I did for so long.
A small thing to some,
And certainly not more important
Than human touch or relation;
But, it was Molly's mew;
From my coal-black feline companion,
My yellow-eyed loving animal spirit.
I never had much time for animals or pets,
But she had won me over;
And was in my lap most every eve for 17 years,
Till her life-energy gave out,
And we buried her in the woods she loved.

She walked with me in those acres of woods,
Stood on my boot, like her island, in the deep snow,
And followed like a dog would, around the yard.
She sat on the big, flat-topped boulder by the garden,
And listened for the engine sound
Coming over the rise, and around the bend,
And sprang to life as the truck came into view,
And cat-arch-hugged my left leg as it hit the ground.

Those that have known unconditional love,
Whether from human or pet,
Will understand my private moment of weeping,
For the compounding losses of the ones so dear,
The souls that partnered with us to give value to life…

That being the grief of the longer-lasting,
That being the lonely irony of the survivor.

Hello, Molly. Thanks for stopping by.