A Squirrel Eats

A Squirrel Eats

On a yonder terrace is a young squirrel
It’s noon, and it’s hot
The little fellow goes forth, fretful of peril—
Towards a pile of rice, cooked soft,
Which some thoughtful hands have set
For hungry creatures to get.

With a bushy tail and beady eyes
The squirrel makes a telling presence
He reaches his food, and in a trice,
Plunges his paws into it, once
A few morsels is all he can clutch
But that seems ample for his teeny stomach

The squirrel holds up his paws to his mouth
And nibbles away quickly at the treat
Glancing warily north, east, west, and south
He continues, not yet ready to retreat
Lo, here comes a pair of raucous, scornful crows
Has the furry lad’s lunch come to a premature close?

The birds eat greedily and messily
Causing many bits to fall to earth
The resilient one darts down happily
For, the fallen particles will make him a nice dessert
The squirrel eats and presently, moves on
Tomorrow is another dawn…


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