Bear's Paw Poem by Naveed Khalid

Last night, a black cat
crossed my way
behind the corner
of that street forty seven,
some dry leaves of book
by the west-wind in autumn,
of wattle and daub her stumbled feet
beyond the sunrise to a close afraid:
of clay and wattle-made thistles by the stream;
that little john's tickling toes
upon the matted floor,
beside the lamp in a nous of light,
her oily skin, so porous as the eyes,
pours forth in e'erything at sunset,
haystack and straw,
a mistletoe on his back,
pricked with a furr coat
in the cellar barn,
this fedora of yore dream.

(C)Naveed Khalid

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Date Created: Friday, October 23,2015 3: 56: 56 PM