Potatoes And Monsters On Broadway - Poem by Hubert Wilson
Sent by our harried Mother.
Mission avoided by my lazy big brother.
Asked to go under our old Victorian Broadway Avenue house.
Like a daring two legged mouse.
Locating our potato storage bin.
Searching in the semi-dark air thick and musty.
Over ground barren, hard and dusty.
Underneath the porch and behind the lattice work screen.
Halting for an occasional spider web hanging.
Expelling frightening frustrations by bravely haranguing.
Reaching into the dimness for the potatoes to bag.
Nocturnal like creatures - my small hand did snag!
Tarantulas, snakes or monsters unknown?
Overcome with a chill to the bone!
What to do now?
Noticeably relieved by a repeated MEOW!
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