I managed to write two poems today, but one is not ready for public viewing. This one is based on a real-life incident with my daughter yesterday, and fit nicely with the Poetic Asides prompt asking for an “animal” poem.
What Animals Do
Talking fast like kids do
after a day of keeping quiet and calm
my daughter tells me about the playground discovery
a dead squirrel
encircled by a group of seven year olds
curious to discover meaning
in its still body.
There was a bone sticking out
with blood on it,
my daughter reports,
then drops the subject
like her backpack
and forages in the pantry
for a snack.
Did the dead squirrel make you upset?
I ask later, and she replies with a shrug.
Then her brow furrows with thought.
It was probably a cat, or a dog,
just doing what animals do.