Squirrels in the Grove

In a perfect world
we'd stick to our sidewalks,
or at least tread carefully and remember to thank the squirrels.

For it is they who watch us daily come and go...
Tall, intrusive visitors,
tourists bringing wealth and life,
fueling their economy, so
generous with our food wrappers and crumbs.

We do not see the grove at night,
but for a few scattered stragglers,
the squirrels are left alone in their dominion.

Rain or shine, late Friday,
even early Monday morning! They come out again
to clean up after us. 

The End

1 comment about this poem Feed