He ate mostly from a bowl of Holiday nuts,
Walnuts, hazels, pecans, brazils,
Which I bought at ‘The Dollar’
For ninety-nine cents
When he was done leaving the shells all over
He would take the rest and hide them,
In closets, shoes, under the carpet in the corner,
We’re still finding them
He was a baby squirrel, who
My nature-loving wife found that summer,
A furry but fallen unopened eyed thing,
She bottle-fed nursed him, until he grew up,
A playfully friendly and mischievous pup
He would curl and cuddle in a crescent with the cat,
He made his own nest in an old upturned hat,
By the fall he had grown, but we hadn’t the will
To put him back out before winter’s harsh chill
So we gave him the Thanksgiving centerpiece to eat,
Let him climb up the tree, Christmas Eve, for a treat,
Come Groundhog Day and his shadow grew strong,
And we felt in our hearts that it wouldn’t be wrong
To let him go out when comes Spring cleaning time
Since then we’ve wondered, where’s our baby got too?
There are lots of his kind, our neighborhood is a zoo,
No way we can tell one gray squirrel from another,
He had plenty of cousins, and sisters, and brothers
Until next Christmas day, by the slider back door,
Maybe fifteen or more, perhaps close to a score,
Was a stack of dried acorns, all piled up nice,
Far too large to be left by our chipmunks or mice
