Thursday, 24 April 2014

Squirrel Memories

Squirrel Memories

Stone still they would sit,
in the near distance,
flecked with sunlight,
dappled yellow-grey
against the grey stone.

You saw them, pointed.
we stopped.
Slowly, then, inch by inch,
we stalked them.
making no noise, we advanced.

A  twig cracked under foot.
the squirrel flew, tree- bound.
The slight branches swayed.
The leaves sighed.
Silence settled.

We caught them on the garden fence.
shot them  easily,
before they moved out of focus.
We captured them,
in a frame we could share

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