This fall our squirrels are fatter than God.
Nourished by this generous land,
they hold worlds in their bellies.
Maples offer outstretched limbs
for the squirrels’ high-wire acts,
brilliantly executed feats of daring.
For now they continue light on their feet,
can run the length of a power line,
scale a roof, but when will the extra
weight they’re packing keep them
from leaping? What is the tipping point
where health turns into harm
where flight takes a fall? Will they evolve
into ground squirrels, leave branches
to sway empty above?
My mother’s town has a surfeit of squirrels;
a long summer has provided an extra
breeding cycle. Their corpses spatter
highways and parking lots.
But our squirrels are not at locust capacity.
Instead of multiplying their species,
they’ve opted to multiply their cells,
grow their own rotund bellies.
More tempted to feed than to mate,
unconcerned about preserving the species,
they’ve become self-preserving.
Basic needs cared for, they learn new arts,
lounge and play and savour, tend
to their burgeoning inner lives.
Delightful! We have a few of those in our backyard as well.
Judy
On Fri, Oct 30, 2020 at 3:46 PM Between Festivals: A Journal in Time of Pandemic and Lockdown wrote:
> felicity936 posted: ” image by Public Domain Pictures from Pixabay Fall of > squirrels This fall our squirrels are fatter than God. Nourished by this > generous land, they hold worlds in their bellies. Maples offer outstretched > limbs for the squirrels’ high-wire” >
Thanks Felicity. “Fall of Squirrels” is lovely in its images and movement toward its playful end (although it seems there’ll be fewer squirrels next year (smile).
No no no, Shane! Humans need to emulate Kim’s squirrels and stop multiplying — we’ve overpopulated our little planet, to its detriment! Instead, we also ought to “tend to our burgeoning inner lives.” Neat line, Kim – I’m trying to imagine a squirrel’s inner life: meditations on the bushiness of tails, the poetry of falling acorns, the brevity of squirrel existence… 🙂
Wonderful poem, Kim. The “self preserving” squirrels here make holes in the grass to bury acorns. I’ve often wondered how they find them again – or if they even do.
An intriguing poem, Kim, and skillfully writtten.
But now your poem has me wondering if humans were once squirrels whose greed left them unable to scale the distance from ground to lowest branch and fly from branch to branch. And then it made me wonder if our current love affair with food, happening at the same time as our diminishing birth rates in privileged lands, has left humans more interested in food than mating. Ya made me think!
Delightful! We have a few of those in our backyard as well.
Judy
On Fri, Oct 30, 2020 at 3:46 PM Between Festivals: A Journal in Time of Pandemic and Lockdown wrote:
> felicity936 posted: ” image by Public Domain Pictures from Pixabay Fall of > squirrels This fall our squirrels are fatter than God. Nourished by this > generous land, they hold worlds in their bellies. Maples offer outstretched > limbs for the squirrels’ high-wire” >
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Thanks, Judy.
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I had a problem with the layout and type this afternoon, which we were later able to orrect.
Felicity
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Thanks Felicity. “Fall of Squirrels” is lovely in its images and movement toward its playful end (although it seems there’ll be fewer squirrels next year (smile).
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Good observations. Squirrels are becoming as self-centred as humans in the developed world, multiplying cells instead of their species
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Yes, we’re a bad influence on them;-)
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No no no, Shane! Humans need to emulate Kim’s squirrels and stop multiplying — we’ve overpopulated our little planet, to its detriment! Instead, we also ought to “tend to our burgeoning inner lives.” Neat line, Kim – I’m trying to imagine a squirrel’s inner life: meditations on the bushiness of tails, the poetry of falling acorns, the brevity of squirrel existence… 🙂
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Yes, so fun to imagine!
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Wonderful poem, Kim. The “self preserving” squirrels here make holes in the grass to bury acorns. I’ve often wondered how they find them again – or if they even do.
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Thanks, Liz! It’s hit and miss I’m guessing. Maybe they find other squirrels’ acorns.
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An intriguing poem, Kim, and skillfully writtten.
But now your poem has me wondering if humans were once squirrels whose greed left them unable to scale the distance from ground to lowest branch and fly from branch to branch. And then it made me wonder if our current love affair with food, happening at the same time as our diminishing birth rates in privileged lands, has left humans more interested in food than mating. Ya made me think!
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Thanks, Cynthia!!
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I love squirrels and I love this poem! I see them as almost human! Thanks, Kim!
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Thanks for reading, Elaine!
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The red squirrel is the underdog, being smaller than the black but prettier with its fall colour and more nimble. They’re lovely to watch.
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The red squirrels are more fierce though, maybe because of their size.
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Donna: I Always wondered why red squirrels are so aggressive. This article explains them: https://dailygazette.com/2013/03/03/0303_nature/
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Thanks for the enlightening article, Cynthia!
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