Baffled

The squirrels always ate the seed I’d used to fill the feeder. They’d shimmy up the pole to follow One brave soul, the leader. Whenever I glanced out and saw A squirrel up there munching, I’d step outside and stomp my feet, Which stopped unwelcome lunching. But in a minute, they’d be back, With cunning and with daring. My foot stomps and some yelling Didn’t seem to do much scaring. Yet at my son’s today I felt Like I had won a raffle. The birds were at the feeder ‘Neath which hung a brand-new baffle. The squirrels searched the ground below In hopes of cast-off smidgens, As baffled by the baffle as Their world would be to pigeons.