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robert-e-moorePoems
I was running when I came across this squirrel. I was jogging kind of slow and so was he. He leapt to the left, to the right, then he climbed a tree. I waited for his head to stretch, to curl Around the trunk and watch me as I passed. I searched for him but saw no telling sign. I studied every angle, every line. I crept up close until I had the last Square inch of wood around the tree trunk scanned. My eyes ran up the rutted bark and there— I saw no more than branches, leaves, and air. I searched for holes, for a fork where he might stand. But all I saw were lichens by the score In countless shades of green. They shared their own Unspoken statements, offered nothing known Regarding one elusive omnivore. I’m sticking to this tale though some might wince. I wish I could just let it go, I should. But I swear I saw him slip into the wood, And I’ve been looking for him ever since.
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Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 1:13 PM UTC
A Close Encounter of the Sylvan Kind
I was running when I came across this squirrel. I was jogging kind of slow and so was he. He leapt to the left, to the right, then he climbed a tree. I waited for his head to stretch, to curl Around the trunk and watch me as I passed. I searched for him but saw no telling sign. I studied every angle, every line. I crept up close until I had the last Square inch of wood around the tree trunk scanned. My eyes ran up the rutted bark and there— I saw no more than branches, leaves, and air. I searched for holes, for a fork where he might stand. But all I saw were lichens by the score In countless shades of green. They shared their own Unspoken statements, offered nothing known Regarding one elusive omnivore. I’m sticking to this tale though some might wince. I wish I could just let it go, I should. But I swear I saw him slip into the wood, And I’ve been looking for him ever since.
Written by
robert-e-moore
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 1:13 PM UTC
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