Where are you Tala?

Anne's voice cuts.

Open my eyes,

 and see five sets.

When was there a cat?

For a change,

 the matriarchs look concerned,

and the child might as well have a question mark

The feline rubs my chin.

It has happened again.

I look at Anne with a raised eyebrow.

Yes,

 somebody did it before the Rock.

Anne returns the look.

She can add a question with her eyebrow.

Drop my eyelashes.

The three notice.

Julian takes over.

"Time for some cocoa,

  and maybe a few cookies!"

Anne stays.

"How bad?"

I hold up my hand.

It flickers.

Noticing the tears waiting to fall,

 I take her hand.

"Quietly, little one.

  This isn't the first time."

We sit together smelling oatmeal cookies baking.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

I don't think I've ever seen one of your poems where you are seemingly addressing your significant other. I love the way you do that here. This seems to show a barely-there poof of affection between you two, done in a minimal way, which really amplifies the specialness of what you're conveying. I'm thinking back to other poems to piece this together . . . I gather Anne finds it hard to see you with struggling hands, yet you went ahead & made those homebaked cookies! *yum!* Fondly, Margie

[Jon Roggie]

I rarely try conversations in a write. This is part of a completely unorganized pet project. I just keep adding pieces to the puzzle!

[barleygirl]

Thankfully my memory serves me lately, so I can piece things together somewhat!