Early sun lights only treetops. Below
in the gloom wild daylilies closed tight.
No cat shedding his coat
onto the cushion I have turned
to the clean side. He was not
batting my leg asking for milk
as I made coffee. He is not
sitting on my keyboard now
I have left doors to forbidden
rooms wide open, brought in
forbidden Queen Anne’s lace
and larkspur for the table.
He is deep in the earth now,
flower-strewn beneath rosemary
I walk out the door of his absence.
Sunlight reaches the lilies.
They open their mouths
for one day of blooming
singing their orange song,
anyway.