Wednesday, February 14, 2007


The black and white cat prances across the park
Like a horse
She is long-legged, white in front,
Black in behind
She lifts her feet rhythmically
As she crosses diagonally
From one corner to the other
Obviously has places to go, someone to meet,
Something to do over beyond the May tree
Blossoming in the Spring
Jays screech a warning
"Intruder passing; intruder passing!"
And soon the prey appears
The swift black squirrel, flashes his tail with excitement
He will tease,
And yank her around for an hour or more
And she will never catch him, no matter how
Beautiful, or how stately she walks into the park

She is left a frazzled, frustrated mess, and eventually
Drags her tired behind out again, not exactly frowning,
But obviously in a puzzlement.
How could that be? Huh? Huh?

- Mary Billy, from She is Carved in Stone


Anonymous Anonymous said...

great to see some poetry here with all the wonderful art.

2:41 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thank you for the poem. Is there any more?

9:07 p.m.  

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