A Scavenger Named Diligence—A poem by Alana Solomon
That sneaky ole gal behind the trash can,
doing what only a bandit can.
She sniffs and sifts and keeps an eye out
for any who’d follow his own keen snout.
Her ring-tailed plume follows close behind
as she visits with hopes of a succulent find.
Her inky black mask secures anonymity
all through the night and all through the city.
With lightening-quick paws she fingers and draws
remains of the day up to her jaws:
melon rinds, clementines, yoke drippings, greasy chitlins,
peach stones, chicken bones, an apple core, need I say more?
with long street shadows, a lonely soul.
Is she off to the ballet or perhaps the shows?
Unseen in shadows she comes and goes,
to Blackwater Cafe perhaps, who knows?
Where does she live? Where does she sleep?
When the hustle and bustle begin on the street?
Down by the icehouse on the deep Cape Fear,
in the limey-green marshes surrounding the pier,
to the old live oak, the muddy path leads,
whose hollow is dry and packed full of leaves.
She’s off with a scurry; I thought “what’s the hurry?”
till silver light streamed by the livery surrey.
The morning hour creeps, in with a haze,
as summer sun floats while blue moon fades.
Her name is Diligence tufted in grays;
I’ll see her again after faithful days.
Her Maker is glorified by her meaningless task,
finding she’s consistent behind her mask.
Night after night she emerges once more
to the alley she comes for the trashcan pour.
Her Owner supplies all she needs for her life
while she’s wild and free and free from strife.
written by Alana Solomon Copyright 2012. All Rights Reserved. Use by permission only. Call Alana USA 910 232 5427. Email: email@example.com