I see little squirrely
dash into the road,
back and forth he zigzags
not knowing where to go.
He seems to be in total confusion
so I, in an attempt to avoid a collision,
apply my brakes but leave him oozin'.
Looking in my rearview mirror,
I see poor little squirrely
as he dies there in terror.
For the little squirrel
it is the end of the world.
2009 © SMN
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
If this Ode to Little Squirrely is all the sentiment and sorrow that the writer can muster over the death of this poor thing, then I certainly wouldn't want this writer anywhere near my eulogy if I was that squirrel. GW62