Friday, March 22, 2024

Flying Squirrel



I saw it

As it saw me 

From its pantry 

Hideaway:


A momentary shock,

An uninvited guest, 

An inconvenient mutuality,

Co-inhabitants of faded grandeur 

Amidst the forest


Finally, face-to-face,

Simultaneous recognition,

Suspense suspended,

Both of us finally knowing

The source of those

Strange, nocturnal sounds

-Wayne H. Swanger


No comments:

Post a Comment

Light

Light  The light has come, as it always does, when I wasn’t looking. I looked up and there it was. Unassuming in its presence, certain of it...