Post-Rotary Lullaby | Steven Fortune
Silly but innocuous
maybe even obvious of me
to tell her blue
was my choice
colour of cat
(Those overcast days
of moist sidewalks
and teal sky saliva
vivify the whimsy in me)
It made her laugh
and I was happy to be known
then vindicated
when a ray of margarine yellow
on apparent cue
punctured the meringue above
cupped an eyeball of mine
like a fish hook
and prodded my entire head
to register a house
sporting navy-royal rooftop
shingles on a road
we often travelled
in conclusion to
the Rotary traverse
It had to be a fresh roof
or at least
freshly relevant
to the compendium
of our eclectic verbal scores
played out on this route
Whatever the criteria
it nursed to health
my hitherto-comedic melancholy
over non-existent naturally
blue cats
Only a triumphant solidity
of blue above could pad
this slice of juvenilia
with further yeast
but I end it as I ended
the walk
happy that I made her laugh
and whole in the encompassing
of teal and yellow
in the elemental suburbs
of my grounding hub
