Who hasn't heard a noise and hoped it was the cat, or the dog, or the breeze in the trees?
Click on the image to enlarge for easier reading. © Diane Mayr. Photo courtesy Library of Congress.
Michelle at Today's Little Ditty is sure to delight and inspire with her featured challenge poem for today, and, she's hosting the Round-Up!
A bit of news: I'm pleased to announce that I will be a Round 2 judge for this year's Cybils Award for Poetry. I'm honored to be member of the poetry crew!
Tomorrow, I'm attending the New Hampshire Poetry Festival taking place at the NH Institute of Art in Manchester. It's the first, and I hope, not the last poetry festival to take place in our fair state! Maybe it'll be the subject of a future post...
Don't worry about the scrit scrit scratching...probably just a poltergeist. No worries! ;)
ReplyDeletePlease let us know how the festival goes...I was hoping to be there, but have other commitments.
Will do. Have you ever heard Simic? He's a delight.
DeleteOh my, Diane, sometimes reading in a quiet house is just like this, except I don't have a cat to try to blame it on. Last year, that noise was a mouse, having a feast in the dog treats I keep when the grand-dogs visit! Your words move quickly at the beginning, then slow-ly and scar-i-er. Fun. And I love that picture too.
ReplyDeleteI have all manner of wildlife scritching--aside from the cat. I have a woodchuck family in a hole outside my kitchen window. A chipmunk that I've seen a little too close to the house. We have had field mice make their way in, but the cats have cut down on that.
DeleteI'm looking forward to working with you on CYBILS, Diane. I wonder if that scritching and scratching could be a certain raven who wants to pay you a visit.
ReplyDeleteNo ravens, please, the cat is anti-social.
DeleteYour poem reminded me of Poe...that frisson of fear!
ReplyDeleteOur Lucy went nuts in the middle of the night last night and I came down to investigate...never did figure out what disturbed her...
The worst thing is the unholy howl my late cat used to make in the middle of the night. Always made me wonder what was going on outside the door.
DeleteSuch an evocative, compelling poem, Diane. Having had mice as well as flying squirrels disturbing my quiet with scrits and scratches, this brought back memories. I would have welcomed a cat . . .
ReplyDeleteHave fun at the poetry festival!
Thanks, Jama, I'm really looking forward to the festival.
DeleteYou had me sitting on the edge of my chair. Diane!
ReplyDeleteJust don't slip off!
DeleteAfter reading through the comments, I see I'm not the only one who wonders if you've been buddying up with your friend Edgar Allan again. You certainly know how to build the anticipation!
ReplyDeleteI remember seeing the ravens at the Tower of London--they were humungous--I'm definitely not buddying up to Edgar, nor to raven folk!
DeleteYour poem does so much to set up that inner nagging fear. Was it the cat? I have to know.
ReplyDeleteNo. I'm not quite sure what it was. It wasn't as loud as I made it out to be. (See my poetic license!)
DeleteWhat a tense true-to-life scenario. Thank you so much (I think, now that I'm ready for bed)...I'm with Margaret...So, was it the cat...script, script, script --I mean scrit, scrit scrit--cat penning its own tale? ...Here's to a quiet night...
ReplyDeleteWell, there's an idea, but my one remaining cat, does not care for anything much besides cat treats. Skippy: "Writing? Does it involve chicken-flavored anything? I didn't think so."
DeleteSounds like the cat should have been d.oing a little mousing! Lovely poem, especially the fragmented section.
ReplyDeleteCan't wait to see what kind of books we'll be passing on to you for Round 2
Me, too. It'll be fun! And, an excuse to add to the library's poetry collection!
DeleteLove your scrit...scrit..poem. Night noises always get the better of me too--your poem brings that feeling to life. Congrats on your judgeship!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Buffy! It's always fun to talk to adults about children's poetry!
DeleteIsn't yours a nice compliment to Michelle's dog poem?! I know precisely that hope, and I don't even live alone. It will be very fun to judge with you, Diane!
ReplyDeleteYou built up the tension really well, by the last two lines I was ready for a good ole scream
ReplyDeleteHave a nice weekend Diane
Much love...
Imagination really does explode sometimes!
ReplyDelete