A Bowl of Walnuts – v2

Pining for peanuts

praying for the nuts

begging for them, urgently,

a gray squirrel by our porch

pitch a peanut, watch his scurry

race to it, dart away, to a few feet of safety

over and over again, till we had no more

walnuts, from outside the shells

prepared and offered

no, they weren’t accepted as is

they must be presented,

given with more flare

a plastic bowl, if you please

so they wouldn’t get dirty

while they are eaten

on the wet cold ground

Great, a very particular squirrel;

uh, stick with peanuts!

edited April 7, 2015

A Bowl of Walnuts – v2

September 3, 2006 16:07

A Bowl of Walnuts

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2006/09/bowl-of-walnuts.html

All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 36,870+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

Out behind our yard

Out behind our yard
in the far right corner
just to the right beyond
the boundary, the fences
a disturbed spot in the dirt
a glint of something shiny
finding a bit of broken glass
to add to my collection

But more there in that spot
out behind our yard, the fences
a tiny perfect skeleton
a squirrel that had met its maker
In an almost fetal position
the tail still wrapped in tight
the roots of the pines,
the grass around it
returning the bone to the earth


February 12, 2010
probably about 1972
57 Squawfield Road,
Westfield, MA


Copyright by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010
Contact me at Ray Foss
for usage.

Harold

If it wasn’t for the dent
he would be making in their budget
his antics would be all the more fun
whimsical, worthy of story and song.

A cagey, crafty, oh so inventive,
very human, small, red squirrel
was eating ALL of their bird food
in the front window feeder,
as fast as they filled it. No, really,
she filled it in the morning, he in the afternoon
he the next morning. By noon, gone again
as we returned from lunch out
he finished his dining. Droppings shared
enjoyed by the pair of chipmunks,
living under the front porch.

No competition with the
gray squirrels out in the backyard
Harold was king of the front feeder,
hanging upside down, claws dug
into the front screen, a real acrobat
(with a very soft looking belly of white fuzz).

He was the reason for the dearth of food
for other customers; but I suppose he wasn’t
concerned for others, at that moment.
He was enthralled, enraptured by the fact
THEY KEPT REFILLING THE FEEDER!

No need to be shy, when the humans
are so fabulously cooperative.
Let the others find another feeder!


July 22, 2007 15:28


All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,780+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.

Not What He Wanted

We thought we would be nice
generous, helpful, gracious hosts
But that wasn’t what he wanted,
not what he had become accustomed to
something different, out of the ordinary
unexpected change in routine
Rejected as uncouth, foul, dirty
How could we be so boorish,
so crass, so base?
Oh, so sorry for the faux pas.
We won’t let it happen again…


May 29, 2007 19:40
On the snub we received
from our picky neighborhood squirrels
when we deigned to shuck the peanuts
we put out on the table for them


All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 20,760+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.