Little Dot

Painting by Rick Mobbs


Little Dot

the great
coiled snail of
wisdom hovers over the
golden hair and wings of the
twelfth cherub of lork busily protecting
little dot who still converses with the gods
and finds wonder in the chaos, wrapped
tightly in her cloak of woven ferns after
facing down the whirling dervish
snake that appeared after
breakfast, who hissed
incessantly to beware
of the bright fishes
of the air, for
hurricanes
and tornadoes
are attracted to the
rainbow scales on their
sides, now readying herself
to emerge anxiously from the
temple entrance to run and jump
and work off the bread fruit in her
tummy, picked from the hothouse trees
within, wanting to rush headlong on the sheer edge
of the narrow ridge top so as to dally beneath
the mobbsian gate, the arch of love, clicking
her ruby slippers and making that high-
pitched clucking sound in her throat,
calling to the multi-colored
amphibians, cajoling them
from hiding so that they
might cavort and play
with her before the
tiny third sun would
drop from the sky
and she would
have to go in.

Glenn Buttkus

March 2011

This is a response and homage to the stunning painting
above, created by Rick Mobbs.

Would you like to hear the Author read this poem to you?