Chipmunk on the hillside.
Perhaps Spring greetings
or conversation with a friend.
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Chipmunk on the hillside.
Perhaps Spring greetings
or conversation with a friend.
Two squirrel play
a fun little game of cat and mouse.
Both scurrying up the tree,
diving face first from branch to branch.
Like little cannons they shoot
back and forth between tree limbs.
One wagging it’s tail, the other
feigning ignorance, like two lovers
they quarrel, never knowing really
who’s cat, and who’s mouse.
Or what started all this in the first place.
I was mocked
Then told off
On two separate occasions
For doing what excites me
For mere entertainment
Taken, always taken
Out of sorts and out of mind
Like a three ring circus,
This tamer’s been bit
For the very, very
Very last time.
“You’re pretty,” said the turtle
to the dove. “Thanks,” said the dove
to the turtle, “but I’m nothing
compared to the peacock.”
“Well, I’ve known many a peacock and
I think you’re much more beautiful.”
“Still I’d rather be a peacock,” said the dove
to the turtle. And I’d rather be a dove,
thought the turtle
as he watched the dove take wing.
What I do not understand
I take within my coil
Squeezing till all life is lost
Away with it! To soil!
For what I do not understand
My only wish is this:
Take note, this hiss is just of man
A snake would never toil