Sloth
One summer,
Irish May brings Sloth to bear:
A two-timed, sunbaked,
Brutish, affair.
A time told tale of Cat
And Boy, the latter Helen
to former’s Troy.
In shade they giggle (gossipers
Both). Our heroes make a pact
To never harm, sealed with
A scratch to Boy’s left arm.
Hours tick and tock goodbye,
Farewells turn to sighs and
Fate on watching Cat’s depart
Dooms fast friends to ever part.
The day turns its page
And night swells with age;
Morning heralds the coming
Of Cousins, and strums his sun-lyre.
Boy awakens to joyful noise.
The household has grown in size
(And toys)! Alas, he’s fated the
Loss of greater prize.
The scene sets: Boy plays
Dodgeball with Cousins un-gay.
Back and forth the game drags on,
A sled in the mud when snow has gone.
Then Cat comes back! Creeping
Softly, peering at Boy through
Garden green- though not soft
Enough, by eldest Cousin seen.
“Let’s play a game,”
Says eldest Cousin.
“First hits the cat wins!”
And the Glutton is summoned.
Boy hesitates, and sensing
Fear, that Sloth appears.
Boy cannot hide, his Vice is
Astride-
There is no tree
Nor branch to climb.
Just Sloth, and Boy,
And wide feline eyes.
Thump, the ball bounces.
Thump, crash run run
And Cat runs like Hector
From Achilles, rubber spear
Deflated but there is time
To throw, to win, to trounce
The Cat in guise of Fun,
For Fun is all and all is Fun
And why oh where has Cat disappeared?
Oh no, oh dear.
What has Boy won?
His friend is gone,
Their pact all undone.
He calls to silence,
-That soft, cold, violence-
Tears crawl
down
his face.
Sloth to Reason fades, delayed.
This tale of Sloth is a layered fold,
Spun by sleeping Clotho, bold Spinner.
Yet, the dreaming Fate stumbles at rest;
Her fumbles sew the ultimate tests.
Like the time told tale of Cat
And Boy, the latter Helen
to former’s Troy.