The Squirrel
I don’t have a garden now, but look out on one and love to watch the antics of squirrels and other wildlife. I often wonder what they make of us...???
THE SQUIRREL
The sun, it shone like a torch among shadows
as we walked misty paths, a friend and I,
observed by a grey squirrel scratching its nose
with its paws, curious perhaps about humans
(why male and female on hind legs, baring claws?)
We parried words in that fast dimming twilight,
guided by the anger in each other’s eyes,
observed by the grey squirrel scratching its nose
with its paws, curious perhaps about humans
(why, even come eventide, making so much noise?)
Sun and shadows, they surrendered to a frosty night,
and stars looked down on us with much the same
curiosity as the squirrel, finished scratching its nose
with its paws, given up caring about humans
(now warring, now hugging or taking other liberties)
Now, whenever I see a squirrel scratching its nose,
I wonder…whatever happened to us?
[From: Accomplices To Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007]
Labels: animals, behaviour, human nature, humanity, life, nature, poetry, society, squirrels, wildlife