Shy squirrel, fat as greed
and squeezed like a compact toy
bulked small between dirt floor
and a ruptured arching root.
Potato chip dust, birdseed
droppings underfoot, an apple core
oxidizing nearby: a gourmand’s joy
lays its evidence, discarded, mute,
about the squirrel’s banquet hall.
Blackpearl eyes show little at all
beyond their death-ray fixation.
Paws quick, furtive in concentration
on the bursting open of some shell
or nut, to break, if briefly, hunger’s spell.