Winter in Maine
Memories are soft gray
Protesting this dreary day.
Speeding down the winding lane
Feeling the intense pain.
I swore he would somehow pay
To have fated my cat a lonely stray.
I knew her meows would soon wane.
He had said we had to leave, no more time.
He quickly packed each sparse belonging.
Promised he had called out her name.
It felt like a cruel, heartless crime.
Choking back tears, fear prolonging.
A nine year old would never be the same.
