Magnetic; she felt

pulled toward this place, his face

as she walked away.

A pleasant little #haikuesday about the things that draw us and keep us here in this city. Which, I suppose what is keeping us here at the moment is an invisible enemy and dangerous virus that not only keeps us here, but keeps us away from each other as well.

Hang in there Brooklyn. We’re all still here with each other and for each other.

Sun-soaked and salty

“I could stay here forever,”

she told him. “with you.”

Fleeting, floating through

arrivals and departures

her skies, always blue.

Restlessly in Spring

hearts and souls and drinks become

slightly shaken, up.

With a smile, she knew

the warmth in her skin, her heart

was springtime and you.

Tireless, somehow

the city that never sleeps

keeps me, finds me, still.

Eyes closed, she whispered

into the starry skyline

“Promise me you’ll write.”

Draped in black leather 

she loved the added mischief

that came with this weather.

South-bound north-kept heart

Past winter-long shadows cast

Coming, going, still.

We know you are here

no matter how soft you walk

small cat.

I wrote this haiku when I was reading a lot of Jack Kerouac’s haiku and subscribing to his poetic license

and also when I had a cat.

My cat Bear had to be put down yesterday and although it may seem trivial, to have a cat in the city is to share a piece of hope and wildness and wonder and love just within a tiny apartment just a few floors up in any building on any block within whatever neighborhood in this town.

He was mine. He was that little piece of hope I needed 7 years ago when this city first broke me, and he carried me through so many of those moments that would come.

It was Bear and me against the world. He made things seem ok when they weren’t. He was the only constant I’ve had here in the city where nothing ever stays the same.

This haiku is for you Bear, in so many words and with so many thoughts. #bearwithme