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.
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