It would be an unwise thing
To share the thoughts up here
(I know you can’t see me,
Tapping my temple with index and middle finger
Of my left hand
Because the right ones writes).
I’m feeling rather unwise.
That itch at the crown of my head?
After fanciful, impossible thoughts?
Of minuscule fairies tormenting bushy-tailed squirrels?
Maybe little cautionary nips of sharp fairy teeth
Warning me to think of fleas
That make Mr. Bushy-Tail scratch so,
Because a sensible person would never consider
A tiny mischievous imp instead,
And my thoughts wander too close to their truth.
That wary look from the geese?
They maybe know I’m on to them,
As they dance on the water,
Their honky-tonk music joyful to them,
Though most people wouldn’t agree.
Any season, anywhere,
Magic – but you who know me?
You probably ask yourself,
“Has she taken her meds?”
Nuts for Squirrels by Karen Ballou, 2012©