The Squirrel Is Dead

The squirrel who played like a kitten is dead
    found her stiff and rigid body where she used to tread,
    on the ground by the pond she lay still and silenced
    only the furry tail still waved in the wind's defiance.
Looking up into the tall hundred year oak
    were few remains of the nested drey she cloaked
    for her refuge and hiding place once safe
    still there, clung leaves gathered moss on the edge of escape.
The sudden change in weather, a north west wind that came
    dropping 30 degrees in just a few hours with cold rain
    swept in later in the night with a racing wind and snow
    that slid thru the trees and flung her here to earth below.
This small creature once elaborating chatter and play
    slipped quick and quietly away
    unseen and missed by those around
    she has final resting peace found.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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Hoffman Avatar
November 21, 2016 at 8:59 AM
So sad but yet so well done DM! You must live up north somewhere; here in Alabama its getting into the low 50's during the day and high 20's at night; that's cold enough for me, brrrr!:)
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