Saturday, May 12, 2012


     “Poor little guy, he must have fallen from
     That power line they always run along
     Beside the street, chasing a frisky chum
     Athletically until something went wrong—

     He lost his grip and plummeted to ground
     Causing some internal injury—
     Then we came by and Gyppie, sniffing, found
     Him in the leaves, still breathing, as you see.”

     So I reported to our neighbor out,
     Like us, for exercise, our morning walk,
     And then we pondered what to do about
     The injured squirrel, not simply gawk.

          I fetched a little padded box and tried
          To keep him comfortable, until he died.