Profiles in the Yard

possum

The squirrels are the vandals in the yard.
I used to think them cute, until I caught
them digging holes to nowhere: no regard
for shoots or seedlings. And you know I thought
the cats were fine the neighbors loved and fed,
until I watched their garden ground attacks:
harassing little songbirds, stalking dread,
and leaving shit unburied in their tracks.

I didn’t have a clue when I moved in
how little skunks would inconvenience me.
I didn’t know I’d love the crows, begin
to loathe raccoons, their rude fraternity,
and pity short-lived ‘possums even though
some coats are mutant white as alpine snow.

This entry was posted in Critters, Neighborhood, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

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