Star
- Dec 31, 2019
- 1 min read
by Christine Taylor
The chiminea burns his paws crossed over my heart
We’ve sought refuge in the backyard sweat dripping down a martini glass
My breath catches the rhythm of his purrs
As twilight succumbs to dusk cardinals swoop the feeder a woodpecker trills
When I sneeze the cat jumps
But he doesn’t flinch at sirens rushing towards Terrill and Front
Settles again into my lap kneads my lounge pants his pupils open.
I wonder how time will pass tonight?
The fire dies and we’re left with ribbons of hearty smoke
We both look to the wind when it rattles the trees.
Christine Taylor identifies as multiracial and is an English teacher and librarian residing in her hometown, Plainfield, New Jersey. She is the EIC of Kissing Dynamite: A Journal of Poetry and the author of The Queen City (Broken Sleep Books, 2019) and Petal (Bone & Ink Press, 2020). Christine has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net, and her work appears in Glass, Turtle Island Responds, Rogue Agent, Haibun Today, and The Rumpus, among others. Right now, she’s probably covered in cat hair and drinking a martini. Visit her at www.christinetayloronline.com.
