Logan Brodie Tibbs (Photo by Angie Tibbs)
October Ottawa rain pounded upon
2 ½-year old Ethan’s screen door.
It’s 10 A.M., diaper needed change,
weary grandparents sound asleep,
Ethan’s heroin addicted parents out
looking for a “fix,” they can’t survive
in clean “just say no” royal worlds.
Former street cat Logan Brodie trots
into kitchen, moved toward dish,
he needed milky “fix.”
Ethan watched Logan take sips, roll-over,
he pats his tabby friend on belly,
tried but could not reach seafood “goodies”
which grandma kept safe upon counter top.
The cat’s sinewy back caressed storm door,
he turned Horus eyes upon the stray boy.
Despite 22 degree temperature, wind, rain,
Ethan and Logan Brodie instinctively
longed to go outdoors, chase down rodents.
Downtown Ottawa, the other day, a soldier
stood guard outside Canada’s War Memorial.
Inside warm and peaceful parlor,
Ethan and Logan Brodie lay upon floor,
they watched favorite cartoon, Rollie Pollie Ollie,
until bothersome station-break.
Two men with pop guns in front of big building!
Noisy sirens, flashing lights, muezzin silence –
lucky grown-up people ushered outside!
So fun, Rollie Pollie Ollie buildings had nice faces
and Parliament building faces were scared,
“That’s what its like to grow-up,” Ethan figured,
the cat ran beneath ancient bronze chair,
someday they’d know why Emily Dickinson stayed indoors.
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