The Chase

Written by: Anne Rutherford

                               

                                The Chase
                    Sitting by the window,
                    Light snow coming down.
                    Watching two brown and one 
                     grey.

                    High above,from tree to tree.
                    On wires nimble as can be.
                    A game of tag,fluffy tails swishing,
                    as they chase each other round
                    and round.

                    A minuscle sound will make them
                    scurry to higher ground.
                    Statue like they sit,still as can be.
                    Till all perceived threats are gone.
                    Then the game goes on.
        
                   Anne Rutherford
                    Copyright 2012