When I grab the hot pocket I remember

if they died in winter
my mother lowered the cats

into this freezer. Towel wrapped
bundles, eyes pickling,

they waited for dirt
our shovels could dig easy.

I'd move aside bagel bites
and smiley fries,

she'd gather up
the stiff dead cats,

and together we'd dig
miniature graves.

Out the window of the garage,
frozen plastic thawing

in my hand, I watch
hydrangeas glow

in her garden, petals
like the pink tongues

of cats crossed over, stubborn
meows hanging on the air.