I worry about the squirrel in the attic.
All that pink insulation couldn’t be good,
More than that though, I wish he would move
Out because he doesn’t help with the rent.
I hope he doesn’t plan on cracking nuts
Up there all winter, lest I crack and go nuts.
I know you are only tiny, but you still have a
Hiney, and all that poo just will not do.
Get out, get out, get out.
I should nail a metal web against the vent that
He crawls in, and yet I can not crawl into that
Nasty den, filled with pink insulation, to late,
I wouldn’t even ask the men. If only I had
Thought of this when up on the ladder high,
I could have locked him out of his granary when
Winter was nigh, but no I busied myself instead,
Packing my own freezer with tomatoes red.
This ridiculous rodent is steady amassing a
Treasure trove, a perceived coffer, a stockpile,
And I am growing angrier now thinking of my
Own dwindling reserves.
And now even you, minuscule squirrel, have
Managed to outwit me in my own domicile.
What a fool…what a trial.