Come! after dark days of April May Today, the sun of partly cloudy streams as strips of light on the gray cedar deck the day after we planted Miss Grace Dawn Redwood behind the birdbath, in the rain, and I forgot Jack! How did it happen to forget my heart's sorrow on the day set to spread his fine black ashes amongst the new garden--the tree, a real but miniature Redwood was a good but not perfect place to release Jack from the lovely mahogany box labeled "Pet Cremation Center." Now, I see a new and real perfect resting place for my old restless friend--today's sun pointed to the mural on the garage wall which flashed down to the soon to be planted marigold garden--scores of orange yellow and red, sturdy dirt scented flowers will bob and weave with the hot summer breeze--and Jack will be there. What does it matter? this serious thought given to a cat's ashes? At times when tears fill my eyes like water overflowing the birdbath, and a sensation attaches to my heart a connection--it matters.