Here’s my poem, inspired by July’s word — poem.
A Poem Begins with the Weather
Today I’m inspired to write a poem
about a cat I had as a child, half wild (the cat),
sweet, as a kitten, a tough Tom when he grew up
to prowl the neighborhood picking fights,
which makes me think of an Irish uncle I had named Tom,
who, for all I know, might have been a sweet child,
but grew up to be a profanity of a man who once cussed
in front of my mom, and my Uncle Wayne, a gent with
Old World manners, took Uncle Tom to task
while my mom sort of smiled. But back to my Tom
cat that ran off the week before we moved
to a different house and I never saw him again.
It was a gray, rainy day the last time I saw Corky
(my cat was named Corky), just like today,
and that made me think of Corky and how much I cried
and missed him and kept going back for months
to look for him and call his name and leave water.
I was nine years old. I grew up to cuss some, but
I have good manners, and if my mom reads this,
I bet she’ll smile.
(c) David L. Harrison, 2021