Mr. Squirrel & the Apocalypse

Oh Mr. Squirrel, perched on the ledge
eyeing me as my dog is going potty.
You’re surely braver than you should be
but maybe you’ve seen this ritual before.

Charming chartreuse chair, I’ll sit in this
unlikely nook thinking my quiet thoughts
about what was, what is, and is to come
(apocalyptic, but in the restorative sense).

A new Heaven and a new Earth as I was
told as a child by my well meaning parents
on the edge of a small town by a corn field
that stretched out into a fecund forever.

***