Poetry Friday: "Trying to Write a Dog Poem in a House with Two Cats" by Billy Collins

Four years ago this week, we adopted Maisy from the animal shelter. 

She was basically a pre-schooler: 

Tiny Maisy

Now, of course, she has matured and become a responsible adult: 

The work is never done

In honor of four years with this near-perfect tabby (and with a tip of the hat to her admirable work ethic), I'm dedicating this week's Poetry Friday post to her. 

To Maisy! {clink!} 

To Billy Collins! {clink!} 

To cat poetry! {clink, clink!} 

Trying to Write a Dog Poem in a House with Two Cats
by Billy Collins

From a couch
littered with throw pillows

they are staring at me
and my open notebook,

and even though their tails
are not twitching

and their secret inboard
motors are not audible,

I know they are assuming
in unison

that I am writing
yet another dog poem

....

(Read the rest here, at Poets.org.) 

~~~~~~~~~~

The Poetry Friday round-up this week is being hosted by marvelous Molly at Nix the comfort zone. 

Poetry Friday: "November Night" by Adelaide Crapsey

I've shared this one before but it's always worth a re-share. 

Maisy thinks so too: 

"Adelaide Crapsey? Inventor of the cinquain?
Oh, yes, please, I'd love that." 

November Night 

by Adelaide Crapsey 

Listen. . .
With faint dry sound,
Like steps of passing ghosts,
The leaves, frost-crisp'd, break from the trees
And fall.

~~~~~~~~~~

Heidi Mordhorst has the Poetry Friday round-up this week at My Juicy Little Universe. 

Poetry Friday: (Maisy and) "Song for Autumn" by Mary Oliver

It's here. 

It's autumn.

It's my favorite time of year. 

It's my favorite quote about autumn: 

"What'll we do with ourselves this afternoon?" cried Daisy, "and the day after that, and the next thirty years?"

"Don't be morbid," Jordan said. "Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall."

                        

 ~~ The Great Gatsby

It's my favorite kitten in autumn: 

Maisy on top of the world. 

Maisy making it incredibly hard for me to get anything done. 

Maisy, with no idea why we are applauding her very existence.

It's my favorite (okay, one favorite) Mary Oliver poem about autumn: 

Song for Autumn 

by Mary Oliver 

Don’t you imagine the leaves dream now

how comfortable it will be to touch

the earth instead of the

nothingness of the air and the endless

freshets of wind? And don’t you think

the trees, especially those with

mossy hollows, are beginning to look for

the birds that will come—six, a dozen—to sleep

....

(Read the whole thing here, at The Poetry Foundation.) 

~~~~~~~~~~

It's my favorite thing to do on a Friday: 

refer you to the Poetry Friday host: 

Visit Rose at Imagine the Possibilities for this week's beauty and goodness.