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Secret, Sprightly Squirrels

Leaves seem to slink and slither up the tree;
then downward, they swoop in a sudden rush.
Out on the branch, with oscillating glee,
then pause their action, as abrupt, the hush.

The tree, alive with movement fascinating,
reveals the perpetrator of the trick.
Two bright eyes, then six or eight, not waiting,
plummet, paws scarcely touching bark or stick.

A flick of tails, debonair as knight's plumes,
a scamper tousles unsuspecting grass,
like elves in lavish furry costumes,
they prance and romp, so nimble as they pass.

Once more, without a warning, they assail it,
the leaves quake again with swishing sound.
Their covert attack,unmasked, they hail it;
a shower of acorns punctuates the ground.

©10/21/2014 Carol Welch
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