Cassandra’s Tears

Tears of joy, tears of pain, we are reflected in the salt-water pools we create. So let us build a fleet of paper boats and sail them on our ocean of indecision, laughing at the wind-whipped white-crested waves that would wash over us, drowning us in our own despair, yet somehow never vanquishing us in the end.

My Photo
Location: Lennoxville, Quebec, Canada

Friday, November 26, 2004

A Rainy-weather Renga

The man wears a hat,
His coat is black and quite worn,
His shoes are broken.

He carries an umbrella,
The pointed spokes extruding.

It rains cats and dogs:
They meow, bark, chase each other;
Streets are awash in chaos.

But the homeless man uses
His umbrella like a shield.

He does not notice
The kitten curled ’round his hat
Or the small puppy

Which clings to his frayed pantleg
As he splashes through puddles.

This is so common,
That the sky deposits pets
On the city streets:

Pet stores have lost all business
Since dogs and felines are free.

But, fortunately,
Equipped to deal with downpours
The City’s sewers

Have extra large openings
And empty in the country.

The homeless man walks,
Shrugs off the cat and puppy,
Seeks some dry shelter,

Tends his garden of catnip
And his diary of bones.


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