Chipmunk

 

Run chipmunk,

run,

churn those legs,

dart parting spring green grass.

 

The woodpile,

home,

nears.

 

Why did you wander so far,

where grass is groomed,

and falcon’s fly?

What was so seducing?

 

Run chipmunk,

run.

Temptation’s shadow grows,

talons reach,

stretch.

 

Sprint friend,

sprint,

and pray if you can between hurried breath

I hope it’s not your last.

 

What was so seducing,

to trigger such a thrill,

a quest for what you already had?