The cat/kitten,
Black as a crow
With one white mitten,
(I call him Paw),
Was prowling
By the Lighthouse,
As he likes
To do,


When two crows

Decided
On a bit of
Sport.


They flew toward him,
Then one veered

Left,
And the other
Right.


Paw twisted,
And dodged,
And fell
Ass over tea kettle.


And I,
For the first time
In my life,
Heard
The laughter of crows.

(I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}DE BA. UEL)