A Hatted Cat Bows
Doctors of words
Live in worlds timed
By today and yesterday
Their home visits
Preventative or past hope
Some clocks seem to run
slower than a fox in socks
All time runs out
On those who cut trees
To the last stump
Unless someone like you
Cares a whole awful lot
Time will stop before
We all find a seat
So plant a seed
For new growth
See shoots of truth
Burst forth
In overturned soil
Sprinkle tired thoughts
With awareness
Allow that wasted realm
To die away
Make room for wonder
Take hold of hands and ideas
to ponder, to pen
Responsibility cleans up
after Thing 1 and Thing 2
Haven’t considered
Being considerate.
How dim are we to
Cancel accountability
To diminish the will of an entity
Attempting to catch up
To the here and now
When others would
Trap us in a vacuum
I don’t live on mulberry street
And neither would many
of my friends have been
sold houses there.
Streets drive on
Houses change owners
and new flowers
are planted out front.
Seuss would have
Named them fabulously
For what they are
For what they could be
We must also name what
Holds us in dated
Houses in need of more
Than Reconstruction