Ev'ry Time We Say Goodbye A Little

These last two are the last pictures I ever took of Tweed and I together. The first one is really the last time we got to play, taken late Sunday evening. He used to do the cutest thing and pull my hand towards his chest with one paw when he was feeling better and let me rub his tummy-this is the last time I got to do that with him although my hand is out of camera sight, it is lying gently more against than 'on' so I didn't add any unnecessary weight. It had been a while since he had done this particular behavior so Sunday night, the last night he seemed to be hanging in there, I got out my camera. I got out my phone. I took copious pictures. Tweed managed not only to tolerate me snapping in his face(on silent mode of course) and taking several videos, including what turned out to be his final vocalizing, taken Saturday night. I will forever be thankful to Robert for not only being my pillar through all this, covering the financial aspects and being with me tuesday. If he hadn't suggested this I would have been so wrapped up in the 'now' I wouldn't have had any space to think about recording anything. I even managed to capture something I rarely did on film which is him swishing around his little paw in his water bowl before drinking. IN all these years I had never managed to get a shot. He somehow was actually strong enough to stand on three legs(he wobbled a lot though) with one paw in the water, then in his mouth, then back in the water until he finally felt safe to drink. more is coming but i am out of energy to write anything else tonight

The Middle Of The Night (Wakeful Dreaming)

rain on me
quench the fire
ingiting in my head
in the middle of the night

evil soldiers chase
in the russian winter's cold
guns fired from trees like icicles feel
falling to form this frozen cage

dark thoughts vibrate
in a chattering mindful attempt at quiet
in dissarray, in darkness mired
in the middle of the night

there are no stars to been seen
a total absence of tendencies
ran out of glow paint a galaxy too soon
but the show goes on anyway.

every time the clock stops
and eyes close and the face locks
and shields of supernatural defense
while desirable, are ultimately dropped.

the film flapping on a reel
runs out before the final scene
the budget is cut, production abruptly
shuttered when at long last there is light.

you can call them monsters
they all take their delights
tiny pills are stepping stones into the abyss
in the middle of the night.