Last of the Squirrels in The Elms

Xll  Love Birds
Bushy with his clippers
Barber shop sharpened;
Nutty, her secateurs
Well worn on the patio;
Wanting to trim the dead wood,
Laughing with merriment
As she packs it in a basket on her head.
While Bushy wants it all to grow back again,
But he shaves it off:
Sideburns, moustache and bristling whiskers,
Deferentially beautifying himself,
Advancing to clasp her – not the branch –
With a huge hug, saying
I love you, Nutty.

          Xlll  The Chase
          Hurrying and scurrying
          Round and round the garden
          Like a frantic squirrel,
          Cheeks puffed out – bursting at the seams;
          Grey-haired, but still nimble enough
          To chase the elusive mate
          Bough to bough, grabbing her tail
          With a twitch and a hitch
          Until he grasps her with a quiver and a shiver
          And then lies down higgledy-piggledy
          Hair undone, dishevelled, scraggly and wet.
          It’s all over
          And he’s left wondering
          What the fuss was all about.

XlV  Time-keepers
They are a people whose future is all within,
Whose today is yesterday
Before they know what’s happened;
Turning the page of the calendar
Checking their watch,
Winding the clock, setting the alarm
Hostage of the trains that must run on time,
Revolving round the time-table for the 162,
But forgetting that the world goes by,
When all we do is live by the body-clock,
Innate rhythms of uncontrolled aldosterone
Regularly pumped into the blood-stream
To make the day begin.
And when the pump stops, that’s it.

January 2013 

More poems about the squirrels:

Squirrels in The Elms

More Squirrels in The Elms