Russian Blue
Your fur coat was a rich hue
of blue gray with an underlay
of silver ends stippled white
so that the whole was jewel-like
in its silken beauty, soft to the touch,
gleaming over tight muscles.
You were a timid soul, gentle,
wanting so to be loved, but
shying from my touch, submitting
only on your own terms
when we were on the same level,
equal. Only then did you give way.
So, it is only fitting that my memories
of your leaving are pewter gray,
another metal tone, dull to the senses,
without the shine you brought,
the sky was just a shade
of Russian blue, leaden, steely, sad.
© Michele Wass
