My poem, Comfort, was just published by Better Than Starbucks (yes. I know. What a great title—especially for me).  Here is the link:

https://www.betterthanstarbucks.org/poetry-free-verse

And the poem:

Comfort

There was never a formal

treaty between Mom and Smokey.

For years, they recognized

the dread and dislike they inspired

in each other, and surprise

encounters, in the narrow hallway

of our old house,

provoked

arched backs,

hooded eyes,

and hissing and spitting.

So alike—

they ruled

with a surety

that brooked

no insubordination.

So different than Dad—

a gentle soul

who seemed his best

with cats and dogs

and small children.

How could Smokey

not love him?

When Dad died suddenly

one ordinary winter day

the two discovered grief,

and enmity was forgotten.

Mom and Smokey took to

sharing Dad’s overstuffed wing chair

by the sunny window—

comforting each other

in unbroken silence

like old, fast friends.