Nesting

There’s a faded blue tarp On an old pile of wood For a fireplace no longer used. Though my hearing’s not sharp, I thought maybe I could Hear a strange sound that got me confused. So I opened the door, Seeing if I could find If a creature was making that scritch And before I looked more, There to pay me no mind, Was a squirrel, his jaws all a’twitch. He was ripping at holes In the tarp that he’d made And from out of his mouth dangled blue. Seemed that one of his goals, If attention was paid, Was a nest of that very same hue. Now I’m searching the trees, Gazing up through the leaves, Trying hard to discover that nest. So if anyone sees Something that he perceives As bizarre, he can let his mind rest.