It Doesnt Really Matter Under A Three O'Clock Sky Poem by Jon Cooper

The great black owl prepares to fly

Invisible against the three O’ clock sky

He releases his old and evil cry

And the animals

beneath know that one of them must die.


All the little critters scatter

You hear a patter pitter, pitter patter

It makes quite a loud flamboyant clatter

In the knowing that only one of them will splatter.


There is a pale elderly mouse

Standing next to the frail Victorian house

Who just had its luck run way down south

Because it is deaf and couldn’t hear the old and evil cry


And as the pale old mouse went a-splatter

Nothing was the sadder

Because you and the mice alike

Knew that it didn’t really matter.



Read more: http: //authspot.com/poetry/it-doesnt-really-matter-under-the-three-oclock-sky/#ixzz0mQ8ylR5t