Elegy For Mister Boots
Poor Mister Boots is lying dead,
A porcelain feline near his head.
He climbed the shelf to better see
What that peculiar thing could be.
He slipped, they fell,
And that was that,
'twas thus a curio killed the cat.
Copyright © Jim Slaughter | Year Posted 2022
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment