It's Still Life

For a Bear Called Cedric

You’d poke it with a stick
to see if it’s really dead,
and if it grabbed the stick

you’d not be surprised.

He was made from a sock,
stuffed with squishy fluff,
and had a button in his ear,

and you’d not be surprised

if he was smiling at the moon,
and sat on my bed in yoga pose
with his threads all falling loose,

and you’d not be surprised

that Mum stitched him up again.
My teddy was poetic, though he
didn’t know Jack Underwood.

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These poems/prose are draft versions, written in participation of Miz Quickly’s prompts and Writers’ Digest (Poetic Asides) November poem-a-day challenge. The aim: to produce a chapbook for submission. ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter. Images are ©Misky, and created using AI-Midjourney.