(Poem #221 on new numbering scheme)
The alligator on the hill was shot by arrows cruel. The man was happy then to see that hungry, bleeding fool. The moon it glowed up in the sky the ant he crawled below the man's friends came to take the beast: they took it to a show.
– two quatrains in ballad meter. The picture came first – a doodle drawn during a slow moment at work, to entertain a child sitting next to me. Then I made the poem to go with the picture.
