the music

in the morning
as she wades
through the dream
of him, she
sees his fingers
moving up and down
the scales of
strings and she
hears the rolling
thump and plunk
of his bass guitar,
she is half
awake, as the cat,
their cat, hungry,
plows towards
her, his paws
against her back,
lying in the space
left empty and quiet,
and for a second,
she wonders, but no,
the music for both
so different now.