Three Poems by Richard LeDue
Waiting for the Sun The worms know enough not to drown in the rain, but don't think of the hungry robins waiting for the sun. A cat, looking out the window, stretches, as if it won't chase those same robins, and one will lie half alive, half dead in a feline jaw that still remembers who's prey after thousands of years of belly scratches. This is the part of the poem where I'm supposed to bite you with some wit about death, yet all I want to do is listen to the raindrops and pretend another summer isn't almost over. * An Unhealthy Relationship The universe is giving us the silent treatment, always has- the argument lost before we were born, and dead stars allowed to tell lies about light in a dark sky. We eventually start talking to ourselves on how our neighbour has dirty windows, while another is obsessed with a telescope, which we assume peeps into our homes (reading our mouths when we're not looking) without a word of proof. The black space above us listen
