Dispatches for the Colonial Office: Carl Sandburg

Sunday, December 7, 2025

Lawrence Hall

Cats Creep in on Measurable Meter

Having Coffee with Carl Sandburg

Little cats do not creep as the sleepy fog creeps

But rather in a so-soft measurable meter -

Besides, the fog does not wear little bells

Or an electronic tracker to beep its creep

In the foggy hours of the untimed night

Dear cat pads silently across my face

And mews her gentle let-me-out song

To join the sacred mysteries on misty fields

At dawn I ask her what strange worlds she has spanned -

She sweetly purrs to me, “you wouldn’t understand”

Tuesday, October 15, 2024

Lawrence Hall, HSG

The Kittens Come on Little Fog Feet

As Carl Sandburg did not say

At dawn: coffee and the Wordle and thoughts

The moon’s still full, but one last star winks out

The dew-bathed oaks drip onto a tricky word

Fog drifts in silence among the tricky light

A little paw stirs soft autumn’s molding leaves

And then two eyes appear, and a greeting tail

The forming image of the cat completes itself

And then another – two abandoned cats

These tiny orphans approach – and love begins

To them I pledge

They will never be hungry or lonely again

Dispatches for the Colonial Office