The sky was starry
and the moon so bright
the tent inviting
after a day of fun and hikes.
So it was easy
for an eleven-year-old's eyes to close,
a restful sleep
hoping to unfold.
Then past midnight
in the dead of the night
awakened by a rustling
a sound not right.
Slowly my eyes adjusted to the dark
and thankfully
I did not
move with a start.
A raccoon was there munching
on Oreo cookies left out,
soon to use my face as a pillow,
so I did not shout 'get out'.
What seemed like hours
finally passed,
and the raccoon did amble
away at last.
Without even a thank you,
but who was I to complain,
I lost a few cookies,
but my face was the same.
(A Raccoon Odyssey, copyright Steven S. Walsky 2013, all rights reserved.)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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