My friend, Jessie
Celebrating National Poetry Month, I wrote a poem about a hoarder trying to locate her friend
I have a new roommate,
her name is Jessie.
I keep looking for her
But my house is kinda messy.
Underneath a box, lifting a mound,
I search and search
But my friend is no where to be found.
What’s that smell,
I follow the scent,
I move a few boxes but it doesn’t make a dent.
I dream of an open field,
Where I can roam free
But inside this house is where I need to be.
I call out for Jessie,
And don’t hear back,
What if she possibly fell through a crack
Into the newspaper mound,
I dig down there
But it’s just a bunch of paper that’s now everywhere.
Why oh why do I have so much stuff in my home,
I try to get rid of it,
But then I feel so alone.
Wait, I hear someone calling out,
Could it be, my best friend,
I am frozen with doubt.
Did I dream of this friend,
Or was she real,
I stick my hand around to feel.
Ah ha, I think I feel fur
Jessie is under a pile of clothes
Letting out a quiet purr, her whiskers tickle my toes.