And Then There Were None

They’re boarding up the cathouse on our street.
These sixteen years the institution’s thrived,
Enshrouded now in fog borne on the feet
Of she from whom the nickname was derived.
A passerby no whisker would have turned;
It looked to be an ordinary house
And just by happenstance might one have learned
That here lived one who’d terrify a mouse.
Not that a rat had anything to fear
From she who reigned within, but reputation
Counts for much, as Puss-in-Boots made clear,
And rare were they who’d risk Julification.
She sleeps tonight upon the very spot
Where calicos all go, before they’re not.

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About Michael

Silliness is good
This entry was posted in poetry, sonnet and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to And Then There Were None

  1. jnjcollins says:

    My eyes are tearing, my heart feels heavy.  Julie has been put to sleep, a final caring act by those who loved her?  John has called, left a message.  So sorry,Michael,Kari.Time to collect the Julie-inspired poems in one place?  We would like to reread them.Love, Judy and John/ Mommy and Daddy Why is it that your poem about a beloved family pet touches us more directly than the Memorial service tomorrow for the deceased Marine pilot husband of the step-daughter of Kristin’s Navy Swimmer teammate Terri Riggs?  Pang. Sent from my Samsung Galaxy smartphone.

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