Where do all the squirrels go?

Where do all the squirrels go?
Do they sleep in beds?
Do they nest up in the trees
Where leaves protect their heads?
Do they hide near river banks
And burrow in the mud?
Do they hunker down in caves
With campfires made of wood?

I don’t know where the squirrels go
But I hope that they are well.
I hope that they feel safe and warm
Throughout this chilly spell.

20/10/19

Sitting on drafts.
Long-necked, leggy and awkward.
Skeletal structures,
Suspensory ligments,
Giving way to flocculent notions.
Let prehensile tongues masticate
The roughage of verdant words.

28/07/19

A dead pigeon sprawled on the pavement.
I walk past and wonder,
Why is this unusual?
Are animals holding tiny funerals
To bury their dead?

Buy me a dog

Buy me a dog.
Maybe a cat?
A rabbit? A guinea pig?
A hamster? A rat?
I just want something lovely;
Something fluffy and small.
I need something to hug–
Really, that’s all.

[06/01/19]