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Nesting
There’s a faded blue tarp
On an old pile of wood
For a fireplace no longer used.
Though my hearing’s not sharp,
I thought maybe I could
Hear a strange sound that got me confused.
So I opened the door,
Seeing if I could find
If a creature was making that scritch
And before I looked more,
There to pay me no mind,
Was a squirrel, his jaws all a’twitch.
He was ripping at holes
In the tarp that he’d made
And from out of his mouth dangled blue.
Seemed that one of his goals,
If attention was paid,
Was a nest of that very same hue.
Now I’m searching the trees,
Gazing up through the leaves,
Trying hard to discover that nest.
So if anyone sees
Something that he perceives
As bizarre, he can let his mind rest.
Copyright ©
Ilene Bauer
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