she has decided not to eat his shrimp mornay leftover so he leaves for the yard in the early evening to gather fallen apples the compost ­redemption for the gravity of waste I see him trying to hold our feline but she slips past him, all slithering, she appears to be some primeval reptile roaming the base of my cortex on nights when I cannot sleep as I write I hear apples fall see a tail flute through green leaves and watch prehensile paws shake branches while he immerses into sunset.

© Diane Stevenson Schmolka .

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