you hunted nuts on ground, in trees
all the summer long
ignoring dogs and cats and bees
even birds of song
the sun crept south, the days grew short
thickened you of fur
never did you tire of work
winter prepped you were
we found you here beneath the bough
your life all but gone
what lay you down we did not know
what deadly deed was done?
you breathed your final, gasping breath
looking at the sky
like humans as they face their death
were you asking, “why?”
who gets your nuts, your final stash?
is some squirrel heir?
do squirrel colleagues take your cache?
is that somehow fair?
we laid your furry corpse to rest
trash bin for your bed
no grave for you, we thought it best
no last words were said
o, squirrel, where’s your furry soul?
heaven, if you will?
or is it where your corpse did go,
out to the landfill?
5 comments:
This was nuts.
Thanks
...I think.
In other words: I enjoyed it, but I felt the need to make a bad joke.
Perhaps I should have said that this was the Dogs nuts - a variant of the popular english expression "the dogs bollocks" - meaning something/one that is extremely good.
Well done. I feel like I should be tearing up. :)
Toast: Well... DOUBLE thanks!
Trina: I tried really, really hard, but I couldn't tear up either.
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