79

A squirrel just walked across my shoulder
Like I wasn’t there and didn’t matter
Part of the bench, a kind of nothingness
Who thought for a moment that a hand pressed
On him like an old friend’s familiar
Enough to touch, but that was peculiar
And much more likely a panhandler’s strange
And intruding about to ask for change
Or could it be suddenly a crazy
Man’s about to grab and strangle me?
Calmly getting ready for a fight I
Saw the bushy tail right between my eyes
Not a friend’s or beggar’s fingers uncurled
No murderer’s. Death shrank into a squirrel.
.