When one listens
To cats’ whisperings
One hears their stories of prose!
Sometimes
walking down
The nice lane
Isn’t the right lane
For you.
Walk instead the curving round,
And angry
Lonely curb
May serve you better.
Why did I try
And save a bee
From drowning
Only to get stung?
Now the bee is dead
My hand
Hurts remembering
the stinger.
Giving hot coffee
To a street person
On a cold day
She responding,
“What’s that?”
“Some nice coffee for you, you look like you need some.”
“Didn’t you know caffeine is bad for you.”
You gawk, consider, and chew over …
The wind is alone
Yours to hear unaided.
Like the ringing in your ears
Yours alone to care.
When one listens
To cats’ whisperings
One hears their stories of prose!
Like Persephone
I will hope on my own
And take some time
Walking along
the curving round,
And angry
Lonely curb.
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