Poem 20151107

in the botanical gardens
the squirrel scampers right up
to my shoe

he doesn’t give a shit
about the sign
don’t feed
or play with
the squirrels

i suspect he wants
something to eat
but i am empty handed

if i caught him
in my peach tree
i might treat him
to a rock
lobbed in his direction

but today
i feel bad for him
then i remind myself
that he is surrounded by
and he is a little opportunist
scheming for easy food
and the chance to pass
on the plague

we part ways
without a word of
not friends
but not enemies either
and i see him romp through
the bushes
toward an unsuspecting
and i think