The Hole Story

The pumpkins placed upon the steps To set a scary mood Were attractive both to look at And to squirrels, too, as food. At first, they nibbled here and there But then were on a roll And chewed their way inside Via an ever-growing hole. On every pumpkin (there were four), These entries could be found And seeds or some discarded bits Were scattered on the ground. My husband caught, on video, One squirrel peeking out, Then exiting with one quick leap While others milled about. And soon another made his move, An acrobatic dash, His last until next year, for what Was left’s now in the trash.