Last of the Squirrels in The Elms
- Details
- Written January 2013
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 ChaseHurrying 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