Squirrel, what has gotten into you?
Trying to steal eggs from Blue Jay’s nest.
The past two mornings, outside my
window, you create a ruckus. First I hear you
scurry, little feet running on the rooftop.
Pine limbs shake, and there you are Squirrel,
leaping before my eyes into the tree, an acrobat—Big Blue right behind you,
on your tail, squawking—feathers flapping—he scolds you for rummaging
around in his nest. You keep running—Mischievous Squirrel!