standing at the sink
scrubbing rust
from a favourite baking tin
determined to reach through
to the hidden shine below
I can smell the brown stain
as my efforts shift the surface
the metallic taste becomes
almost overwhelming
like blood in the mouth
and I remember all those times
when I found the silver lining
hidden in the damaged and the dark
© Claire Griffin 2016
my cat keeps piddling on the carpet
and I’m tired of cleaning up after her
but she is getting old
and it’s winter
and if I were her
I wouldn’t want to go outside to pee either
getting cold feet
and reminders of youth
from the twin kitten strangers
who have moved in next door
and who, rain or shine,
delight in dancing about on the deck
© Claire Griffin 2016
I am sorting and packing
getting ready to shift the bookcase
and lift the carpet
vacuuming old dust and cobwebs
from the edge of every book
before I put them away in boxes,
and finding that each one
triggers memories
that I haven’t thought of until now.
I wonder
when these books are hidden from sight
will I lose the memories?
I want a better bookcase
with glass doors
so I can see into the past.
© Claire Griffin 2016
invisible necessity 