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Posted by MFish

Here sits Lenny the Loon,
under the light of the moon.
Hatched from an egg
I'm sure you see.
Not born of a Mom,
unlike you and me.
A difference that's not
really wasted on he.
A story of a life,
for all us to see.
A story that could
aptly soon be,
one of the many humans
so much like we.
From the color of his feathers
to the shape of his beak,
can you please, just tell me
about his webbed feet?
He's not one of us,
that's plain to see,
so he doesn't belong here,
some old goose said,
take way his children
from the Mothers who dread
said the old goose,
we'll keep them with others,
so they never get loose,
nor see their Mothers.

Your avatar
Loy • 11/27/2018 at 09:49PM • Like 1 Profile

I love when you write this type of poetry - I can always visualize the story.

What happens when your
mind starts to go?
When you no longer remember
all that you know
and everything in front
of you, has no name.
It's something you knew;
a simple instruction of put on
your slippers, when you arise,
is met with puzzlement and surprise.
When you look at a shirt on a chair
and say to me, "Is this it?"
At that moment, I have become aware
you know nothing of what I say.
So, I help you now to get
ready for another new day.

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