What Willy Joe Discovered

 

Willy Joe did not go looking;

He wasn’t on a search—

Just a normal prowly walk

Down the block and past the church.

He was just about reversing

When it stopped him in his tracks—

A door he hadn’t noticed

Nailed shut with metal tacks.

This derelict old building

He’d padded past before,

But he’d never gone exploring

Near that boarded-up old door.

First, he sniffed around (like always),

Found a gap—big as you please.

He was flexible and skinny,

So he got in there with ease.

 

When he stepped inside the structure,

There was quite a curious smell.

Just what scent he was smelling

His nose could not quite tell.

But when he heard the growling

And saw a big brown figure,

Willy Joe shot out that exit

Like an itchy trigger finger.

The bear gave out a bellow

And stood on its hind feet

But Willy wasn’t stopping

For a gnarly meet-and-greet.

Willy Joe returned home safely,

With lives to spare, at that—

But remained a curious sort;

Afterall, he was a cat.

 

© 2024 Teresa Miles Kephart