by sack
manages to not tip over and fall into a heap of corniness. And that's not easy when you're writing about a squirrel twitching and being in the hands of god. But you did manage to pull it off and it's a pretty darn good poem! I liked it lot when I first read it on the board. Good job.
::sniffle::
I just had a quirrel die on me a few mos back. I tried to bring it back to life, but was too late. (sorry, got me thinking)
I really LOVED how you ended this. Beautiful work, sack!
Furry-tailed rats croak in the snow
But let's hope our turn comes
At three in the morning
Warm buried under thick covers.
Our Mr. Sack reveals his sensitive side in this relating of a squirrel's death. A beautiful rendering made even more special by someone who took the time to record its passing.
the little critters for reeking havoc in our veggie gardens but we just shoo them away because we hate to see them die. Your poem exemplified that point, thank you.