gray flannel suit
a milky white shirt
a handsome and sleek-perfect fit
with supple suede shoes
and cream velvet gloves
his style has become such a habit
a sly backward glance
then out of the house
he folds himself into the shadows
accustomed to night
quicksteps without sound
he glides past alleys and windows
"Hello, Mr. C.!
Again on the town?"
wherever he strolls, he is known
he pauses a while
for drinks and a rest
then smoothing his coat he moves on
roving by moonlight
alert to the streets
he will greet sunrise at dawn
his family's at home
wishing he'd tame --
"Where has our Charlie cat gone?!"
(c) 2009, Emma D Dryden
Your 'punchline' caught me by surprise - I'm a wee bit tired today!
ReplyDeleteLoved it! Have posted it on my Facebook!
We have a cat that resembles Charles - but has less white on his chest.
THANK YOU.
And he's winking at us! Lovely!
ReplyDeleteAh-ha, you got me! So skillfully woven, I didn't catch on right away. I love the line "he folds himself into the shadows."
ReplyDeleteGenius! Loved every line. Thanks :)
ReplyDeleteSo will you talk about the form you're playing with here? I love the glancing end-rhymes.
ReplyDeleteWonderful! I can see this fitting so nicely into a book for MG! My granddaughter would love it.
ReplyDeleteMonica Kulling
ReplyDeleteLovely poem Emma. You write well. We have four cats (maggie, gracie, cleo and chester) and they do get under your skin.
monica