You hated visitors but loved their shoes

For so many years you slept a

small still weight by my restless feet.

When I got up you would claim

my spot, leftover warmth, a cuddle.

In the end you who were silent

cried out waking, sleeping, lost, alone.

I would hear and nudge you gently,

not knowing if you were awake, asleep?

To let you know I was always  there

awake, and with you in the dark