White seems to be an absence
of color, but really, it is all colors.
The people behind the cafe window
live at the back of the mirror it becomes,
for you, as you smooth your hair
and for them, you are a moving image
to watch, as a cat stares at shapes.
The water-splotched MISSING poster
for Misty, a white and grey cat,
is every fluffy cat you have loved,
any small animal you have lost
or touched. Waiting on the corner
for the light to change, you are on
every corner, everyone who has ever
looked at you is looking at you now.
This coffee is all coffee, your pockets,
all pockets, these clouds, all clouds.
You think of the family without Misty,
how the parents see their own anguish
when the little boy cries because
he left the screen door open, but in
your mind, they are played by
your family, you. Your own lips
pressed together, please, please,
I want her to come home, let her
be here when I wake up tomorrow.