summer dawn and dusk
comes the coated filthy thief
tip-toed, determined
to steal what he did not tend
and leave rotting evidence
scattered in my field
without fear of my dog’s teeth
mocking my (too-far) raised fist
he leaps from the roof
tossing a bare pit
at me in his spite–but now
the leaves have fallen
winter, no peach, no squirrel
——
Words and Feathers 