Poem: The Hour Before Dawn (for Herb)

With the best of intentions I take
My first walk in the hour before dawn
As the city begins to reform itself
For the day. And no matter which way
I go, soon enough a window lights up
Just above me, or there’s a rustling
In the bushes beside me. Car lights
Blaze in behind me, then disappear
Before they arrive. A cat out of
Nowhere screams between my legs,
And then, at an alleyway, I hear
A cough in the darkness that could be
Animal or human. Out of a tree
Something falls on my shoulder
And bounces into the gutter. Now,
Those car lights have circled round
And come shooting at me -- but no car
Arrives. I arrive at the car, parked
At the curb, motor running, waiting.
But why here? Why now? No matter
Which way I go, and believe me,
I change my route constantly,
Something is lying in wait for me,
Following me, gunning for me.
Luckily, that old sleuth from the
Rosy east arrives on the scene, and
With his usual beaming mastery,
Illuminates the mystery.

Hubert Meeker

  Photo by Terry Loeppky

Photo by Terry Loeppky

Come Play with Us in the Park

Come Play with Us in the Park

Poem: Squirrel Rapture