A peculiar thing
to see a squirrel
dragging a cut
of cloth, jumping
from branch to branch,
through swirling
bits of snow.
Later, I ascend
the stairs
to a window,
binoculars in hand.
From my warm
perch I spy
the clump of
leaves and twigs
just slightly above
eye level
and bring the
viewing circles up
to take a look.
At once I am,
or perceive myself
to be,
in the nest
padded by a cut
of cloth on this
very snowy day.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)

No comments:
Post a Comment