“What Was There, Then?”
What was there, then, about the sight of that fat squirrel?
There he sat, erect on hind legs, bold, strong, and sure
I had something he wanted, and that his cure
Was somehow here with me. If truth be known his borough
I had rudely trespassed and all I could have offered
Was to back up, leave him be, and wish the best
To him and his. The brisk winds attest
That autumn’s here and paltry offerings proffered
That I might make to his tree bound cache would
Make little difference in the end, yet, there he stood,
And here I was, a smile from ear to ear; I could
Not leave, nor did I think that I had the need or should.
We simply stood, the two of us, transfixed in the affair,
And in the end, I left with nothing greater than his stare.