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.