as I stare wild starving in the world full of human beings, progress, tall buildings: or glare mild at the field full of protein; sustenance enough to make hay the life; straw deities comedic scarecrows just for the fun of it, launch colored balloons or string cornhusks together, decorate the fair old oak standing in the center that neither loves too much or cries at the slightest breeze that fells his seed among the cultivations like they may grow prouder than all the skyscrapers ever man built in concrete, the fair oak an oasis of nature for the squirrel to discover