Tag Archives: squirrels

HIDDEN SPRING

Photo by Marcio Konno on Pexels.com

What do the Earth and her creatures know

which we do not know?

Are our hopes too high, too soon

even as the green grass grows

and trees unfurl leaves 

that shelter all from heat and sun?

The squirrels still seldom leave their nests.

The rabbits yet burrow beneath the shed.

The disquiet of too quiet daybreak

without birdsong warbling to wake

all the creatures eager to begin

days of freedom without and within.

Why do the creatures continue to hide

in shelters away from prying eyes?

Where are the bees 

as the flowers bud and bloom?

Why such a quiet garden devoid of all sound?

Is it too soon to expect, Earth’s creatures

and I, our freedom to rebound?

Or, should we find our peace

by staying underground?

In the silence, I walk carrying dreams

instead of shutting them down in dawn’s light.

Dreams cannot stay hidden by night

after the sun reappears in the sky.

Earth and its creatures may stay hidden;

but not my dreams of Spring. Not I, not I.

I move through the garden, 

my eyes searching wide

for other creatures, unwilling to hide.

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Filed under POETRY

AUTUMN IS IN THE AIR

Acrylic on canvass, self-portrait, louise Annarino

Cold air is heavier.

Its density 

has a propensity

to hold us in place,

inside,

asleep.

It is enough

to make one weep

who loves the heat.

I welcome it

for its cooling property, 

its innate ability

to calm and soothe

the painful reality

of an overheated,

seemingly defeated,

world once at peace.

Oh, it was but a brief

moment in time

when hope was alive

and the country thrived,

and nations strived

to help democracy

overcome autocracy.

But, I digress

under great stress.

Cold air is weighted

with shards of ice

torn loose from northern fields,

with such power to wield

that it weighs down sunrise,

to no one’s surprise.

It puts the worker bees to sleep.

They awaken inside flowers

lacking the power

to find their way to their hives.

Cold air makes dreams

more difficult to bear,

their messages too heavily aware

of all the world’s problems

fair and unfair.

Autumn is here

and the world bows down

under the new weight.

Winter is not far away.

I cannot wait!

As sun rises the only sound

is the song of geese southward bound.

I place the heating pad round

a sore back from bending down

to plant bulbs squirrels have already found.

Soon, snow will coat the frozen ground.

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

THE SQUIRRELS AND I

Photo by Good Free Photos.com on Pexels.com

Squirrels multiply fast around here,

as fast as they run about the yard.

Three new nests in the Linden tree 

have appeared,

Hidden by dense leaves

out of view.

The sun hides too.

Her light is now hidden by clouds.

She has stopped dancing amid shadows.

Like the squirrels I am too proud

to simply sit and wait for sun 

to show her face.

Without sun 

we barely know our place

in this darkened, cooling space.

We no longer dig and play

in garden beds anchored in clay.

The squirrels have stopped their foray

for bulbs planted a month ago,

ceased moving them to a new place

or worse, chewing or eating them first.

The squirrels, and I are nearly as dormant

as the perennials, and as scattered.

My body yearns to find its way,

to dig and plant, to weed and hoe.

It no longer drops onto the garden bench

to rest and watch the birds and bees.

I drop onto my nested couch instead.

The squirrels and I have grown

too cold, too weary

amid days as dark as night.

The squirrels and I have become too quiet.

Sun’s warming disposition

no longer lightens nor warms us.

Birds no longer join us in chorus

as we hummed alongside the busy bees.

Neither of us are ready

for the coming deep-freeze.

We squirrel away.

I on my Netflix couch;

the squirrels find their own 

entertainment and playful connection

I remain ignorant of those; 

and, so, I and cannot mention

what keeps them tight inside.

My own tightness will not subside

no matter how hard I try.

I cannot blame the sun.

She still hangs overhead.

Like the squirrels and I

she has decided to hide.

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Filed under POETRY