Buttons the cat “goes away to die” most days now. Living in genteel confinement in my home office and wanting for nothing, this 18-year-old trickster tries to convince me that the end is near by leaving her heated bed and squeezing herself into odd spaces of the indoor landscape — behind the desk, between the filing cabinet and the wall, into a nook in the closet. Her daily swan song has done nothing to diminish her zest for life, though, and she “returns from the dead” refreshed and alert. Somehow I think she will outlast us all.
from the window
a bright red bird . . .
the cat’s twitching tail
Published in Haibun Today: A Haibun and Tanka-Prose Journal (http://haibuntoday.com/ht103/H_Waters_ThePhoenix.html), 8/30/16.
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