~

A squirrel lie unfurled,

from end-to-end curled,

 

near a corner,

on the sidewalk,

by the street.

 

My dog stops to smell,

but she cannot tell

 

what chance there

befell her,

she greets.

 

The small gray squirrel

now gone to the world,

 

in soul,

but body

it keeps.

 

One trick was too many;

the last one was plenty –

 

The last one

too often

 

The dog, she can tell

that something’s not well,

 

with the featureless

creature

she meets.

 

Death is by nature

not the best teacher,

 

but for those

left alive

in the world.

 

A lesson

that is lost

on the squirrel.

 

From that moment on

all will be gone,

 

but an image

will go on

of the squirrel.

~

 

©2014, Marvin Welborn

13 August 2014.