Fresh

She echoes my sentiments
as she runs toward the open door.
Her nostrils twitch with each inhalation,
breathing deep the brisk winter air.
Such joy to feel so alive!


2012 @ Pamela Rudisill

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Wistful Comfort

Dreams of my mother
a child, a wisp of a thing
held in my arms
small measure of wistful comfort

My arms now cradle
the warmth of a feline rumble
I bury my face in soft grey fur
baptized by tears


2012 @ Pamela Rudisill