Morning, Noon, and Night by Martha Christina

The cat you left behind
hooks her left front paw
under the edge of the
closet door you built.
She pulls it open,
stares at the empty
hangers and shelves,
sniffs, as though there
might be some lingering
scent of you, months later.
She turns her gold eyes
on me, meows loud and long,
as if in sympathy, or blame.



Martha Christina is a frequent contributor to Brevities. Longer work appears in Innisfree Poetry Journal, Naugatuck River Review, earlier postings of Red Eft Review, and most recently in Star 82 Review, and Crab Orchard Review. She has published two collections: Staying Found (Fleur-de-lis Press) and Against Detachment (Pecan Grove Press).