Poetry: The Thoughtful Squirrel


I need time to think, thought the squirrel,

High up in a tree in the middle of winter.

Yes, it was the exact center of the season

When collecting acorns

Should be done.

But he had none.

Months of play

Did so pass

Until he was

Out of gas.

Kaput

Without

A nut.

Maybe thinking would help

After all it was free

And he had all time in the world

In this barren tree.

(Editor’s Note: wrote this yesterday in the middle of winter to make myself laugh).

Published by 67steffen

My labels: grandfather, father, veteran, writer, poet, photographer and dreamer in pursuit of the meaning of life. Getting close, although I'm running out of time--probably why I'm so close.

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