Morning at the Homosassa Preserve

Note: I am not a poet. I don’t enjoy writing poetry and I’m not good at it. I’m posting this here purely for archival purposes.

 

Alligator

The morning air was heavy, humidity coating flesh in rime

The surface of the pond was murky, covered in thick, green slime

The birds were chittering amongst themselves, calling out between trees.

The pumas and bears were lethargic, as there was too little breeze.

 

The otters were oblivious, pouncing on hapless fish

The manatees were submerged, munching lettuce, their favorite dish

The deer were doing what ruminants did, prancing all around

Stiped lizards scurried everywhere but didn’t make a sound.

 

To all appearances it was a calm morning in the preserve,

But mother nature loves to laugh and threw them all a curve:

A roaring noise shook the air, harshing everyone’s mellow,

For the alligators had, all as one, begun their mating bellow.

 

Imagine an elephant, a lion, a screech owl, and a moose

And that’s almost the kind of sound the ‘gator’s all let loose.

Then amplify the volumes by a factor of at least eleven,

And add the noise from a Mack truck, or really, more like seven.

 

The sandhill cranes joined the chorus adding to the din.

The buzzards left their branches, over the pond to skim.

The bear awoke and went in search of salmon (or maybe honey)

And when he growled the deer next door did NOT think it was funny.

 

But the gators didn’t care, they continued with their singing

Not at all aware that all their neighbor’s ears were ringing.

Til finally a female alligator surfaced, showing off her pate

And one of the bull gators decided she must be his mate.

 

If a latent dinosaur singing for love feels like so much drama

Remember that when humans mate, it often leads to trauma.

Mother nature has a plan, one time has perfected.

Roaring gators, ruffling birds – all life is connected.

 

Written for Brief #7 of Like the Prose 2021: Write a Saj style poem.

From the Vaults: 3 for Zorro

I was looking for something on the ‘net and found this, written October 19, 2007:

Remember that everyone you meet is afraid of something, loves something, and has lost something.

Write either three short verses or one long stanza about these three things – fear, love, and loss. Any form of poetry is fine – haiku, a sonnet – whatever works.

* * * * *

I’m not a poet. I dabbled in verse ages ago, but I generally think in sentences. Still, it’s a good exercise to play with other forms once in a while. I don’t post verse or fiction to my actual blog. That’s what this is for.

* * * * *

I. Fear
Monsters with headlights whizzing by
Cold rain falling from the sky
Hiding for naps
Begging for scraps
Constantly running on tiny feet
This is the life of a stray on the street.

II. Love
He reminds me of the childhood poem
About a little shadow
Up and down the stairs, he’s at my heels.
In the kitchen, he’s underfoot
On the couch or in bed, he curls against my hip
Puppy kisses tell me what he feels.

III. Loss
Day by day, I’m seeing him fade.
He’s withdrawing from us a little
As if he knows his clock is winding down.
His muzzle is grey where it once was black
The “eyeliner” that helped earn his name is nearly gone
He’s taken to barking at the other dogs in town

Ten isn’t old for a Chihuahua, they say
But they forget the epilepsy, the years on the street
And the dental issues, and the heart disease.
They just see the spry little man with the sickle tail
Ears erect, nose a-quiver, eyes all big and round
Like a plumber, the vet never hears him sneeze.

I know our other dog feels second best,
Which is ridiculous because I love them both
Differently, because MissCleo is a dog for play
While Zorro, my little man, is content to be quiet
Always near, his quiet presence warming my heart,
I don’t know how I’ll deal when he finally slips away

Zorro dog died in February, 2009.