Life With Horace

poetry & essays

the raid

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we think she ambled up our hill
and grabbed the seed bin
left outside our door
then took her prize down to
the stream-cut woods
behind the house, to feast.
our feeders are aswarm again,
the returning snowbirds and
winter stalwarts busy feeding,
none of whom would care she came
unless denied their food, but
the squirrels and I are glad
that she was choosy in her way.
so, do you think if I asked nicely,
she would return my scoop?

Author: Life With Horace

poetry & essays

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