image from Hope at pinterest.com
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The dash says -10°, please refuel, but the squirrel merely laughs~ her paws grip the wheel, a trail of acorn shells spitting from the tailpipe. The wind is a dentist’s drill through her fur, but she’s got style, she’s got nuts, she’s got a convertible. The trees watch in dismay~ Look at that idiot!* The squirrel grins back, tossing a half-eaten walnut at winter’s face. Let the humans huddle. She’s got the heater cranked to glory, and the radio tuned to KNUTS105 FM.
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