As I gazed out the window this
Sweet morning and surveyed the view
I saw that change was in the air;
Like some celestrial store clerk,
rearranging shelves, replacing old for new.
The trees, all barren, reached up
to scratch an egg-blue sky while
‘round their feet, upon the green
Lay crumpled leaves, so dry.
Oh! Did you see that?
Bounding over frosty grass, its bushy tail behind,
an old gray squirrel’s dashing towards a tree
as if he’s lost his mind.
He scampers up the pine, with such speed and ease,
next time I blink,
he’s perched on branch and
twitching in the breeze.
(Across the lawns, between my home and Perry's Big M, I saw this scene unfold before my eyes. It was 10: 45 am, November 5th 2007, and I just had to capture the drama in poem. What do you think?)
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