Spooked
Who is knocking on my empty stump
on this cold and dreary night?
I glanced at my friend, but she was snoring away,
her usual evening sight.
I went to the door with my loaded acorn,
ready to shoot me some bear.
But believe it or not, no one was around,
not a soul even there.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2020
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