It's Still Life

Steep

at the bottom of the hill
      where every rippling southeast breeze
      used to hit the creek bed straight-on,
      where that one-legged black crow
      used to nest until a cat got it, although
      a few years later a fox ate that same cat,
and down there where I heard a cuckoo,
      but having never heard a real one before,
      mistook it for one of those clocks bought
      on a holiday cruise down the Mosel,
      but like I said, down there where clutter
      and litter collects in the brambles, and
      catches on the wild carrot and cowslip,
is a creek that is a mere putrid seep nowadays.   

Fandango’s #FOWC: clutter and Miz Quickly’s Loaded Words “Seep”. Shared with @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter   ©Misky 2021