Wednesday, 16 November 2011

in front of me

fluffy grey tail
stops
frozen to the spot

looking around
nervously
everywhere
twitching
never resting

running
dodging
stopping
freezing
repeatedly

disappears
into trees
climbing
watching
safely
on high


this little grey squirrel




10 comments:

Lady Mondegreen's Secret Garden said...

You could be watching the stray tabby cat that lives here and is becoming part of our lives.

the cuby poet said...

Lady M.: I have added an extra line clarifying what I watched it entranced me like a cat never would.

The Weaver of Grass said...

Hi - nice to meet you. Do call in and see me again - I used to visit Cornwall a lot years ago - mainly Morwenstowe area. Like the poem.

Roy said...

Your Poem has defined a Squirrel perfectly Cuby.

the cuby poet said...

The Weaver of Grass: Welcome here. We lived for 15 years in Kilkhampton not far from Morwenstow - great area.

the cuby poet said...

ROY:Thank you.

upwoods said...

I can almost see your gray squirrel now. Up there! There she is! (Sweet poem.)

the cuby poet said...

upwoods: I know they are rodents but the bushy tail lets them get away with that!

Lady Mondegreen's Secret Garden said...

Oh, I can see the squirrel now :-)

the cuby poet said...

Lady M.:I am so glad he/she was rather sweet!