Under the oak tree:
fallen leaves, acorns,
and seven squirrels.
Windy day:
fallen leaves and squirrels
everywhere.
The squirrel on the branch
looks down with one bright eye:
mouth full of acorn.
The squirrel on the branch:
just out of reach,
but no higher.
The squirrel complains:
so many nuts
and only one mouth!
The squirrels
as nervous as the leaves
skittering in the wind
So cold an autumn day—
even the squirrels
stay close to home.
Calm, wet morning—
I hear the squirrel’s claws
on the elm-tree’s bark.
Autumn:
bark-gray squirrels
climb the squirrel-gray tree.
Fall day:
nose-down where the squirrels were,
the dog follows ghosts.
© 2007 Kij Johnson