Outside my window, there’s a tree.
Inside, looking out, there’s me.
Windchimes beckon, “Come outside!
Don’t stay behind the glass and hide.”
Squirrels chase each other up the branches
Leaves and nuts like avalanches
Fall between the roots, where squirrels
Hide their precious, tasty pearls.
OR, they chuck them at my head!
When near “their” tree, I dare to tread.
And chittering, they run to hide – OR
Scold from on high, with a mouse’s roar.
I wonder: Would I rather be the tree?
No, playful, silly squirrel – that’s me!
I’d climb so high, I’d gaze in wonder –
Drink raindrops, shake my tiny fist at thunder!
I’d scold the neighbor’s prowling, yowling cat –
What would the flustered robin think of THAT?
She’d knight me, like some Empress of old
And tell the wrens my story must be told.
“Inside that window, there’s a girl
Who thinks herself a silly squirrel
One day, we’ll turn that knob and go inside
And drink our acorn coffee by her side.”
Just a glimpse outside my window and a silly little poem, composed over coffee while sitting on my back porch, listening to the chatter of squirrels, mourning doves, and cicadas. How could I resist the lure of the windchimes?
Welcome to #WordsMatter – A monthly Blog Hop on the first weekend of each month (this month on Aug 2-4).