"Why do I still see you,
though I know that you are gone?You aren’t perched on the back porch rail any more,
yet there’s your shadow stretched ‘cross the lawn."
Anyway, I received word the other day that my poem is going to be published in the first book ever published by the Dearborn library. Beth has said that the initial notice was sent out to all the libraries in Michigan and that it was a juried competition. The gentleman that notified me called my poem "powerful". I'm pretty happy right now.
At the time when the call went out for entries they said that artwork and photographs could accompany the writing and I submitted a photo of my Fi to go with the poem. The gentleman that I have been talking to asked me for another copy of the pic the other day, which I took as a good sign. You folks know me and know that I don't see boundaries between art forms (lucky for you, I can't see the boundaries between the art of writing and the art of food), so the possibility of having both a poem and a photo published together pleases me no end. I want to thank all former and especially the current members of our writer's group for encouraging and helping me.
But here's the weird thing...
"Occasionally I will find a grey hair on my robe
Too long, so I know it isn’t mine.
But it’s like you’ve sent a message to me
Thru some weird portal in time."
Since being notified of my inclusion in their book, I have been finding Fi's claws around the house. She has been gone for almost a year and a half, but I find these mementos in frequently traveled and used areas, not some obscure nook that I don't go to. Hey, I'm just a guy that lives alone, but I must have vacuumed the steps a half dozen times or more since her passing, but there's one on the landing. I found one on the rug under the dining room table and I've vacuumed under there several times too.
Now, I don't believe in any of that kinda stuff. Heck, I don't believe in anything. But I can't help but believe that Fiona is sending me congratulations on finally being published. A cranky, half feral cat may just cause me to reevaluate my belief system.