Squirrel trembles like an autumn leaf, nut-brown
And hesitating on the curb; his eyes
Gleam in the headlights of a car that grows
Too fast for rodent reflexes to judge.

The Driver lifts her foot. Squirrel gauges range,
Decides to dart ... but pauses in the lane,
Looks back, and twitches tail. Now tires squeal
As Driver winces, waiting for a thump
To signal the descent of death's sharp scythe.

But no! --- Squirrel summons magic, dodges, leaps,
Evades, and gains the farther shore. He sits
As taillights dwindle ... sniffs the air ... and then
He turns around to cross the road again.

Meanwhile, a block downstream our Driver spies
Another glimmer by the asphalt's edge.
Heart still aflutter from the last near-miss
She taps the brakes, slows almost to a crawl,
So when the pre-dawn runner swerves in front
He lives: Squirrel sorcery protected him.

TopicPoetry - 2001-11-17

(correlates: NorthwestBranchMemories, NimbusHaloGloryAureole, ShowerOfBellringing, ...)