I got a haircut yesterday. It's funny, but I often go to a different hairdresser and never stick with anyone in particular. I know that's risky. I never tell them I was a hairdresser 15 years ago, because I don't want them to feel nervous. I just like to sit, relax and remember what it was like. Here's a poem I wrote with lots of action.
He stalks, then pounces
On a beetle small.
He waits, then prances
Like a bouncing ball.
He tucks, then lunges
If brother moves away.
He swats and wrestles
In grassy plains all day.
He sleeps, then wakens
When mother brings a treat.
He waits, then watches
While father eats the meat.
On a beetle small.
He waits, then prances
Like a bouncing ball.
He tucks, then lunges
If brother moves away.
He swats and wrestles
In grassy plains all day.
He sleeps, then wakens
When mother brings a treat.
He waits, then watches
While father eats the meat.
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