a muse

Two more poems:


“A cough,” I explained with a hack,
“is a lot like an old hacky sack.
People pass it around.”
Sage grumbled and frowned.
It was her cough. She wanted it back.

***

Sage pretty much knows
where everything goes.
She’s got enough info to go on:
dresses in dressers,
books in the bookcase,
toys in the toilet, and so on.