Gatherings
Even in the
heat of summer,
With its abundance
of sunshine
promise of flowers
and fruit,
the
squirrels still gather
Their food
into themselves
As if winter
were a close
Companion,
waiting behind
The evergreens,
the essence
Left deep in
the squirrel’s nests.
The grip of
it so tight on them
That they
would eat themselves
Dead, rather
that feel the bite
Of the tundra
or the emptiness
of a body
without the warmth of food.
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