Sean Lee

A Squirrel’s Life

I saw a squirrel,
It was pudgy, gray and scared.
Claws to the mouth,
Folds of fur
Burrowing in folds of fat.
A bushy tail resting on a bushy back.
When I approached it,
The little guy ran.
Nimble stubs
Barely touching the ground,
Sniffing the air delicately
With a whiskered nose.
Paws hitting the street and
Without a sound
Hit a car.
No remorse in the air.
None of the other squirrels
Seemed to care.
Only me.



[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2010 EDITION]

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