Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2019
I'm squirrel watching.
I'm watching you and
those buxom cheeks,
filled by twitchy nibbles.
Then frozen features as you pause
to look right at me,
trapped and double glazed,
impotent indoors.
And I wince a little,
my tummy tickles
as you return to your meal
with another bite
from your nimbly nutgrasping paws.
I can read his mind and ink his thinks.
Lizzie Nelson
Written by
Lizzie Nelson  F/Chicago
(F/Chicago)   
328
   Bogdan Dragos
Please log in to view and add comments on poems