melissaahowells
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in the dream
I have four white socked feet with delicate black-painted toes my coat is lustrous dappled with radiant multi-hues of the blazing sun I slink into the edges of the scenery I am chicanery I am sly-wise but, I am hated despised for who I am though I don't know or care to know why I am what I am and I like me... one very singular creature no one quite like me how my collective molecules reek with what's unique let them ridicule my natural nature I will smile and I will eat grapes I will gorge on chickens sucking bloody marrow out of their fragile bones just before it thickens then devour a full clutch of their raw progeny I am SO artful at Dodgery it gives me glee I see into their darkness and then I flee saying good-bye to all of their misunderstandings and misinformed hatred of me see how I run scrambling away with a satisfied sniff leaving no trace but toe deep footprints not even a whiff of my artful presence the ghost fox in white socks the black masked marauder and illustrious carmine colored thief and happily-mad plotter I am so well-pleased being me I might never wake up. date/time stamped May 1 2018/5:55pm PST legal copyright for this poem and also for this writer Melissa A Howells and also for this legally copyrighted site title Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World Vote for this poem |
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