An Autumn Morning

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short poem about life with pets

Submitted: November 04, 2011

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Submitted: November 04, 2011




On a fresh autumn morning I sit with myself,
In the fresh garden air before work.
I wait for my brother to make himself ready,
And chance gave me the time for a smoke.
The air is like ice as it beats at my face,
Making rosy delight of my cheek,
What’s that I hear? A Dog! Husky Bark?
Or does he cough just because he is weak? 
I hear the short rustle of crispy brown leaves,
Not yet fallen from birth at the branch.
My cat returns home from her wakening stroll,
She sits by me and flirts, little tart.
A blackbird is singing not so far away,
And cat’s ears, they might hear and they do.
Cat’s eyes there are bright, her wings ready for flight,
But what does cat make of this tune?
She lets down her head on a paw that she licks,
Closes tiresome eyes and starts yawning.
She will hunt soon; without doubt in my mind, 
But not at this time of the morning.

© Copyright 2018 David Goodwill. All rights reserved.

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