Squirrel

If a squirrel lacked a fuzzy tail
To gracefully leap about
Would we think he was scary and gross
Like the lowly, brown, field mouse?

We feed a squirrel; we think he’s keen
We watch him climb and scamper
Up and around tree branches and trunks
We feed him nuts to pamper

But, see his cousin, the gray, field mouse
We run off and say, “Oh yuck!”
You know, skinny tails are the way they’re made
No fuzzy tails, is their bad luck

If I dress a mouse using a wig
Then would you consider him cute?
And let him devour your peanuts
With no thoughts of mouse rebuke?

I’ll look for a wig store this morning
Do you think they’ll find me strange?
I’ll ask for a tail wig for a mouse
Be assured…I’m not deranged.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2011

Poem

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