Since we’ve mown the lawn,
Last ‘back ‘n sides’ before the leaves,
Brown tails are seen- dash scurry - ‘cross the green
One running from stump to drain,
Another zipping opposite,
Ten yards on but much the same
Our neighbor’s tomatoes have taken a wilt,
Season’s frost brought that result
Watching the tails, I feel I’m at a Harvest Carnival,
- the shooting gallery –
Perhaps if I pop some off with a BB gun,
The barker will give my girl a pink elephant
But seventy degrees today,
(and I’ve got no gun)
Let chipmunks hoard acorns away
A red tail hawk I've also seen,
No doubt his eyes too spy the scene,
This time last year he’d caught them all,
Must not be too hungry this fall
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