Scatting Cat
Black cat clad in green scats
as he scampers in no hurry
along the moss laden trail.
He turns around a bend in the path,
casts one last lingering glance –
his yellow eye sparks
as he turns.
Never to be seen.
Never to be heard from.
O!
His return I conjure,
a sauntry strut,
back in my direction.
Rhythm and scats
precedes his entry into view.
Alas, it won’t be so.
What ever happened?
To that green clad black cat.
GD ’19
Willow Tree
Under Willow Tree lies she
In plain sight.
Her eye spies a boy
fishing for the radioactive
catch of the day (!)
to peddle on the streets
while Mom hides
behind Oak Tree,
spying in plain sight.
Alone we crave.
Finding nooks to breathe
in the dull grey that beeps and squeals,
high-pitched squeaks rustle behind her;
another pulse spying on she –
animal rustling?
It’s the fearful boy
with a styrofoam cup
hanging from the end of his line.
Tears blurred by the weeping leaves.
GD ’19
Shih Tzu Vogue
Rattling cacophony sugar coats the air.
Each brick layered in imperfect symmetry,
like the jazz saxophonist upstairs.
I whisper into the broken night,
and it wails back at me.
It curses me violently,
Coldly
Uncaringly.
I am undeterred.
Above all else,
it is fiercely loyal.
Each crevice a juxtaposition
of grit and glory.
I turn right, eyes of despair meet mine;
I turn left, a Shih Tzu has rain boots on.
A jungle so concrete
swallows laughter and human misery.
I am enveloped in dust, no –
It’s ashes of those
so loyal, so shattered.
GD ’19