‘n Boots — a poem


hep cat stray cat cool cat spray cat
a feline felon flinging four-letter foulness

a tip of the hat gads I’m hatless drat
my name? W(ill) C(atch) Field(mice)s

I strut I hiss I spit and sputter
to come out alive pull fur with another

and now adieu
I go seeking a sunny window

…and perhaps a little nip before a nap


* * *


I blame The Sunday Muse.



A Question of Geometry

Then the dragonfly flew,
squaring the corner, came
up the ramp toward the door
of the portable classroom —
a low, hovering student enrolled.

She pivoted suddenly, shunning
my handshake and greeting;
sharp corner before flying
back over the sidewalk.  She measured
the smooth cement squares
length by width, squaring
her corners to match
the edges and cracks
between the regular, regimental

Settling in the sun, stunning
emerald and gold, pondering
our angles —

considering the human need.

* * *

Thanks to Terveen Gill at MasticadoresIndia for publishing my poem!