A gray fall morning, a wet walkway
A neighbor peddles trinkets on his lawn.
Swallows are leaving for warmer climes
As train horns sound their inevitable crossings.
Gloomy prospects, mournful sounds…or silence.
Moses stirs, his day begins.
Considering a soggy worm for breakfast,
His tongue flickers. He salivates
And imagines something tasty
With a hope only a Basset could conjure for a worm.
The cycle of the year is ending
Even as a new day begins
I wonder at the end of things
As I ponder a new start.
But the birds are not all gone
Chirps and tweets begin to fill the air.
The dogs awake and
Growls and barks begin to mark their movements.
The need is clear
To get up and get moving.
A new day dawns
It is Saturday morning.
Ortho boot, ortho boot,
Whither thine heat?
My potato-hot foot
It cooks in thy peat.
Thy neoprene wrapping,
As tinfoil it wraps
Around mine poor spud-foot
to confound my synapse.
Sensations do spike
As thy hump in the middle
Doth create aches
And pain—not a little.
Are thee a curse
Or a cure as they say?
Are ye advised
Or are ye dismay?
Ortho boot, ortho boot,
How I doth hate thee!
Would that ye’d die
Would that ye’d flee.
Ortho boot, ortho boot,
Please be not mine.
Go find another
And leave me behind.
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
The world of a hippo is cool to the touch,
We eat lots of grasses and garbage and such.
Our stove we don’t use cause our feet are so big
We can’t turn the dials with the hands of a pig.
Cold grub, therefore, is the fare of our way,
Unless we score road kill what’s warmed by the day.
Cool and mature but not cold, old, or addled,
We type our opinions; we’re seldom too rattled.
A hippo is solitary, but loves his friends, too.
Quick with a nod for his buddies like you.
Thank you for visiting; I thank you again.
I’m nodding right now, not just dipping my chin.
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
