Threads

It’s okay if I panic
when the cat won’t eat
the cat has ties
to the time I spent
with my dying Dad.

Like the sewing needle
in my jewelry box
tangled with Grandma’s heart locket,
the one that hides a picture
of a mysterious man,
not my Grandfather.

I can't untangle it
If I pull too hard
I'll break the chain.

Loss lingers
but this cat sleeps on my head
licks the shape of my face,
forehead,
cheeks to chin.

It isn't grief or panic
when I wake at three
but a dream
you blew a kiss to me.