word wednesday | toddregoulinsky.com

There’s still approximately 15 minutes left to Word Wednesday here in Eastern Standard Time, so here’s one from 2021 that hasn’t been revised at all and, in fact, hadn’t been read since it was typed into the magic poem machine the day it was composed. Enjoy.

civet poet

it’s easy to picture a poet as feline:

the ease of solitude
& removed worldview
along with a love for sleep,

quietly padding hallways at night
while prowling   -   one for prey
& the other praying for words,

limber of body    (or of spirit)
& prone to lazy indulgences
along with sunbeams.

if only cats loved beer as well,
there’d be no living
with either of us.