| 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, ...)