Nutty Squirrel
A nut in mouth, the squirrel
hops
Across our lawn in back.
He pauses intermittently
There in his hip-hop track.
We almost overhear his mind
As he deliberates.
Is this the place to bury this?
Oh, tell me please, you Fates!
He stops a dozen times or
more,
Traversing all our yard,
And seems consumed entirely
by
This question grave and hard.
And then—at last!—he finds a
spot
That’s perfect in his mind
And paws and digs and buries
with
The prowess of his kind.
Then off he goes in search of
more,
Exploring favorite sites—
Preparing for that certain
day
When bitter Winter bites.
And so I ask: Would he prefer
To winter in the South
Instead of hopeful hopping
with
A chestnut in his mouth?
The umbra of the ancient tree
Sustains and coolly comforts
me.
Shakespeare Couplet: Romeo
and Juliet (7):
The Montagues devise an
evening’s fun:
They'll crash a party—there,
some hearts are won. (1.2)
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