A rhyming poem about the foolhardiness of one youngster.
The news had spread like a wildfire.
A large cat prowled their neighborhood.
The danger of attack was dire;
the cat would kill all that it could.
While the adults stayed safe inside,
one youngster threw caution aside.
He ventured forth, failing to hide,
to see what the night would provide.
He had scarcely begun to roam
when he caught the hunter’s keen eye.
The cat now blocking his way home,
the youth’s outing had gone awry.
Still unseen, the cat stalked his prey.
Crouched, with muscles rippling, he crept
closer, still closer, soon to slay.
He leapt … a kill, quick and adept.
The youngster had paid a price dear
for his act of foolhardiness.
Age would have brought wisdom, that’s clear;
maturity would’ve meant success.
The cat carried his kill and laid
it near the lady of the house.
By her reaction he felt betrayed.
She screamed at his gift of dead mouse!
When she heard that we had been hunting mice as teenagers, a neighbor lady mentioned to my mother while we were listening that she would make a pie of mice if she had some.
The next time we went out hunting among some old stumps, we killed about a half dozen mice and put them in a paper bag. When we returned home we knocked on the neighbor lady's door and showed her the bag of mice we brought for her to make a pie with. All she did was scream. ;-)
This collection of poetry addresses the nature of time, reflections on the natural world, the difficulty of loss,
contemporary social issues and gratitude for life.
Share
Print
Save
Follow
When she heard that we had been hunting mice as teenagers, a neighbor lady mentioned to my mother while we were listening that she would make a pie of mice if she had some.
The next time we went out hunting among some old stumps, we killed about a half dozen mice and put them in a paper bag. When we returned home we knocked on the neighbor lady's door and showed her the bag of mice we brought for her to make a pie with. All she did was scream. ;-)
Ron