Yellow Cat

   Saturday morning

The doorbell rings.

I fly down the banister,

Stumble to the door.

Expecting to see Publishers Clearing House

With my ten million.



Oh boy am I dressed for the occasion

Wearing

Plaid boxers, and a t-shirt.



I thrust the door open.

"Oh, Hi, Aunt Mille"

I take her yellow coat

Her only prized possession.



When she sits

The chair moans and the tiles crack.

She asks if "I wanna hold her hand"

I pass.



I ask her

"Why is that coat yellow?"

"Because it's made of cat, yellow cat"

She replies.



Out of the blue

She tells me about her insect collection

With its newly renovated fly hut.



With that

I seek Mom.

Upstairs I go

So she may see her sister,

So she may take my place.