Poetry

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Sketch of Muffy

Incongruous though it may seem,
There is a pumpkin
Under the tree,
Which sits all bedecked
And tinsel covered

In the center of the tie dye curtained room
Of India print spreads
And flowered pillows
Of orange and green and yellow gold
Through all this colorful
Discordantly interesting explosion
Muffy sleeps.

Possibly she can because
The scene parallels
Her own existence
It’s almost as if she wears
The thoughts of her head
In her conglomerant whirlwind coat
Of orange, black, brown and
In-between

Impetuous feline
Racing through the house,
Sliding across the kitchen
Catapulting, somersaulting, caterwauling
Only to drop
Moments later
Into peaceful upside down oblivion
As she flops, kerplop asleep,
Paws in the air,
On the India print couch,
A tightly curled Muffy pumpkin.

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