A Cat Named Stew

stewie
Stewie The Cat


Cat
Hair everywhere
Ran away
But it’s still there
Fat cat crying
Hurricane Katrina survivor
Feline PTSD sufferer
Thirty days gone
We thought the dog ate yer
Ran out the door
Always scared of your own shadow
Never been outside before
You were courageous that day though

 

 

 

Clouds

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Billowy Billows
White Fluffy Pillows
Puffy or Flat
Misty Zeppelins
Blanketing Overhead

Cumulus's Fluff 
Can Make For Wet Weather
Nebulous's Haze 
Makes Visibility Vexing
Stratus's Layers 
Lay Near to the Earth 
Veteran Sailors
Give Nimbostratus Wide Berth

Cumulonimbus's High Thunderheads
Pay Homage to a Norse God
Whose Lightning Bolts 
Evoke Approbation
And Remaining Outdoors
Requires Grave Consideration

 

A Tree

jungle-1411010-1279x1702

A fresh sapling,
young and new,
grows among its ancestral kin.

Their roots join to form
an ancient web of communication,
sharing nutrients through
their communal networks.

Symbiotic relationships,
tree root and fungi combine.
A complex grid exists
beneath the forest floor.

The sapling rises to the light.
Its branches extend toward
the sun's illumination.

It will struggle to survive
in the dense woods
among its ancestral kin.

The sapling will adapt,
as living things tend to do.
Perhaps it will outlive the rest.



 

Jejune

with-love-1244083-1279x921

 

Naive and impulsive,

the juvenile

bewitchment reserved for youth-

passion during our salad days.

 

Abandoned chastity,

yearning,

stroke me easy

like a delicate bloom.

 

Lamentation, heartbreak-

puerile grief.

An anguish

that seems not to end.

 

If only we knew,

experience is fundamental.

 

 

 

 

 

The Baobab Tree

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“Baobab Tree And Fruit Watercolor” by vectorolie via http://freedigitalphotos.net

The Baobab Tree

She pressed her palms against the ancient oak.

Spanish moss hung down

grey and curly, like the hair of an elder woman she once knew.

Rivulets of blood stained the bark,

hundreds of stains mingled,

the essences of a hundred men and women.

She remembered the baobab tree in her village,

the one where the children prayed.

The community matriarch told tales of ghouls,

white, snatching their people up,

violating their women and girls.

Their men were roped like the beasts

that stalked the edges of their village in the night.

The baobab tree witnessed it all-

the ghouls with their explosive weapons shouting.

The ancient oak wept blood.

The baobab wept, too.

 

Donnell Creppel 2016