I’m old enough
to be flattered
and take no courting attention
for granted

this grey morning
I fumble awake
groggily trailing
cobwebs of a dream
about my long dead
still adored Siamese
clutching her to my frantic
dream self
as if she were, miracle,
still alive

this dry morning
of a slippery rainless winter
I sip my strong coffee
and listlessly watch
the window
longing for the joyous noise
of my new, if just
rattling through,
boyfriend.