By LaDeanna Mullinix
Together, we’ll visit our friend
who no longer knows us, and pluck
those pesky little whiskers
off her chin.
I’ll keep the cat
you leave behind.
You’ll come
when I call to say
the cancer’s come back
or the diagnosis is dementia.
I’ll go when you call
to say Joe just died.
We’ll steady each other as we step
onto the bridge, and say:
stand tall, speak a little louder,
smile,
take my hand.
LaDeana Mullinix is a Quaker, a retired occupational therapist, a native Kansan, a Master Gardener and a Master Naturalist. Her poetry and essays have been published in Friends Journal and Slant. Her poetry has been published in one anthology, and two were recently accepted in a forthcoming anthology featuring Ozarks poets, from the University of Arkansas Press.