Our mulberry tree, full and bent
Gives berries so sweet, heaven-sent
They grow big and fall
Woodchucks have a ball
Get drunk on the ones that ferment!
Two rival hockey teams take the ice
Gloves off at game time. bAm! PoW! SLICE!
It was a cluster puck
And that is putting it toothlessly nice.
I learned woodchucks couldn’t chuck wood
What would happen if they actually could?
Well, a cluster chuck
Really it’s only beavers that should.
I was holding breadcrumbs in a 10 lb sack
I tripped and fell right on my back
Then ensued a cluster duck
I was found by feathered friends that quack
I have this new word game to play
What’s the word I mean without having to say?
What a… clusterfluck?
Or something like that anyway.
February 1, 2023
C Words Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
8. Cluster
Kara gingerly walks from treetop to treetop
Careful not to step
On squirrels, bluebirds or cardinals
The other giant Amazon women scoff
Roll their brown eyes at her inane silliness
Eagerly smashing and bashing smaller creatures as they tromp
Their enormous daily kill rates rapidly adding up in heaven
They often compare and chuckle about the woodchucks and cats
None of them understanding what Kara understands
Karma is a b*****
Winter's icy streams funnel low
Frosty beams on pine needles
glow
A menacing wind seeps
through thatched window
Below, fibrous carpet cloaked
with satin plateau
Snowy wood with furry dander
doth flow
Mule deer nestle with fatty
reserves in tow
Wild boars root 'neath the
milky tallow
Red foxes scavenge for prey
along the hedgerow
Pensive hares prat through the
silken meadow
Black bears take shelter in
sleepy hollow
Sparring woodchucks bristle in
the frothy undertow
Spotted owls reconnoiter each
frozen crevice, sealed burrow
Orange-breasted sparrows
their winter anthem bellow
Jittery squirrels scurry about
searching for nutty escrow
They link hands and arms
The row isn’t wide enough for three
I’m stuck behind, being almost forgotten
I’m like the woodchucks
Except I’m loosing the battle of my friendship,
That girl would never strike me as that certain type of girl,
But now I’m getting jealous but I’m not that way
My friend is being swept away from that other friend of mine.
But I see her everyday in school but,
In the summer she might not be mine.
Smells of cheese curds, the shouts for beer.
The man looks everywhere, and a kid shouts over here.
This must be a sacred moment, as I stop to buy a doughnut
I look around and see the pitcher on his mound.
I signal for us to head to the bleachers,
this is our classroom, the woodchucks our teachers.