Adelaide B. Shaw
All God’s Creatures
After an absence of several weeks, he’s back. My squirrel. Upside-down, right-side up, every which way possible, he is having his breakfast at the bird feeder. Why he went away and why he returned is a mystery. Maybe this is a different squirrel, but he is just as determined to roust the birds and have his fill. He ignores my tapping on the window. I tap a little louder. He looks up, gives me the eye, and goes back to eating, flipping out more seeds than he eats.
He is a rodent, and that alone makes him an unwelcome visitor. Maybe I shouldn’t fuss over his presence. Doesn’t he have to eat, like the birds? If I’m willing to give birds a free meal, why not a squirrel? He is messy, but he does make me smile at his antics. He is a first-class circus act.
It is early spring, and he is most likely short on food sources, having used up his winter cache of nuts. I let him finish his feed, which he does after about fifteen minutes. I’ll go outside and refill the feeder, knowing he’ll be back later in the day and again tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow…
though hidden from view
there is a destiny
given at birth
from flea to elephant
we share a raison d'etre
About the Author
Adelaide B. Shaw lives in Somers, New York. She has been creating Japanese poetic forms for fifty years. Her books, Travel Souveniers, An Unknown Road, and The Distance I’ve Come, are available on Amazon. She posts published work on her White Petals Blog.com.