Invasion

January 29, 2014

Light Gray Squirrel with his back arched and front feet,

Quivering, feet suctioned to the coarse slice of oak in balance.

Shuttered movement.

Then squelch and feet spin in time,

Symmetrically cycling clockwise.

Nabbing and picking, sifting through the gnarly knot.

Nose scuttering under the dusty dirt and twigs,

Inhaling the spicy smell of dinner, reaching for that crunchy

Bite of smoked acorn.

Nibbling contently,

Enjoying profusely dinner at the Musty Brown Piece of Oak.

Surrounded as the

Cicadas hum in the sun streaked branches of heaven,

Nightingales chirp as they fly in rounds,

Toads growl as they blink their eyes repeatedly,

The pond drips notes of classic.

Tender beats of the beaver, thumping out the mud rap,

Soft rustling from the underbrush.

Sounds blend together, music of nature,

ambiance to the nutty one course meal,

Crunching slowly in the knot.

And then…

Menacing thump,

Louder and LOUDER and LOUDER.

Sounds of scurrying.

The last trace swallowed by the forest.

Invaded by

EL FIN.

Click.Click.Click.

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