Ed Boyd

When women wore aprons over house dresses,
I opened the closet door.

There it was, among coats and toys,
Scaring us both.

Tiny and gray it scampered onto
The kitchen floor.

Ma grabbed her broom from
The cellar stairs.

With a few pops of her broom handle
It gave a feint wiggle.

“Timmy” yawned his way
into the kitchen.

Ma said, “Open
The door.”

Left hand by the tail,
Right hand by the scruff,

Ma hurled both
Into a tangle,

Onto the porch,
Face to face.

A feeble swipe,
Lost forever.

January 1, 2010

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