when they dart in from my truck,
it's as if they've had it with this world,
resigned to tempting cul-de-sac fate.
I want to tell them in squirrel tongue
that life is worth it
and you'll find more nuts to store for winter,
little fluffy tail who brings joy to kids,
and creepy old men who feed them in parks.
Some make it across big freeways
to be reminded that it's better to keep squabbling
in the tree of existence instead of twitching
after being smashed to bits by a Buick.