Panda Pants

I sewed a pair of panda pants.
I didn’t ask. I took a chance.
He asked me where I’d found the thread.
I’ve had it all along, I said.
The panda sighed. I don’t know why
I felt compelled to tell the lie.

In years to come I’ll think of him,
His trousers with the scarlet trim,
The inward-facing pleated rise,
And when he turns to go, surprise!
The whole rear end a painted frown
Suggesting Disappointed Clown.

I sewed the pants. I’m proud of it.
And yet…
Have I regret?
A bit.

Let Freedom Ring 20.23

Mass shootings happen all the time
Without a reason, but with rhyme:
For thoughts and prayers and guns, demand
Will spike, but changes won’t be planned.
Still, best be safe: Shore up your stock
Of weaponry in case the shock
Of this one causes such regret
That we’ll do what we haven’t yet,
By which I mean, a single thing
I kid! We won’t. Let freedom ring.