Kathleen Johnson-Breakfield

(Stockton, CA, USA)

Father Squirrel (Dedicated To My Father) - Poem by Kathleen Johnson-Breakfield

I watch a squirrel outside in a tree,
he seems so alive and free,
hopping from one tree to the next one,
I watch and think what fun. Down the trunk to the ground,
scampering, hunting all a round,
until the nuts have been found,
back up the tree he goes,
while a gentle breeze blows,
tree to tree he leaps,
you can not even hear a peep. Into his home he goes,
the winter harvest he sows,
day by day he repeats these steps,
so his family will be well kept.

Comments about Father Squirrel (Dedicated To My Father) by Kathleen Johnson-Breakfield

  • Rookie George Sicillia (9/3/2008 4:36:00 AM)

    i love to observe a squirrel too. Nice poem (',) (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: hunting, tree, fun, family, winter, father, home

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 2, 2003

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