Thursday, June 21, 2018

écureuil

My dearest squirrel,

I remember you first scurrying
about at Marion Square.
Who knew then how contagious
was your energy;

how witty and forthright,
your exclamations;
how wicked you would
become with a pickaxe?

who knew that
you embrace challenges
with an inspiring fervor,
headlong, come what may.

Who knew these things
and did not fall involve with you?




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