I saw the cat seated in front of the puddle
casually drinking
wearing his tuxedo
of black and white
as if he was always well-dressed for any occasion
like any self respecting cat would be
well-groomed
he sat self-assured
by the roadside
he wore no collar
and when I turned to look back at him
I was sure he was lost
but didn't want to appear that way to me
I thought to myself
I wish I could keep him
but I wrote about him instead
I think that about every one
keeping them surrounding me
in white picket sentences
little memories immortalized
in words
so that they're not
abanonded
a singular thought condensation on a November 1st afternoon...
legal copyright for this work and also for this
writer/poet Melissa A. Howells
and also for this legally copyrighted site title:
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World
everything is derivative, like impressions
4:54PM PST Thursday November 1st 2018 time/date stamped
