
he sits there in his tree all day,
a tiny monk, robed in grey;
with folded paws, he starts to pray–
to all the squirrel gods.
*
he prays with everything he’s worth
to launch the bloom of mother earth;
the time has come for her rebirth–
against all earthly odds.
–photo by me
Aww π€ so cute and Lively poem
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Thank you very much!
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So cute β₯οΈ
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Thank you, Neeraj!
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You captured the little tree rat perfectly. Iβm sure heβs probably in the spring, too. Happy wanderings!
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Ha, Thanks, Lane! Little tree rat is as good as tiny monk.
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Never knew how rat like they were till Fatty took over the bird camera bird feeder. Happy evening!
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Rascally rodents, they are!
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wonderful imagery ; magic; of course, I’ve bookmarked this gem π
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Thank you much, John!
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Great poem and photo! A lot of squirrels up north go into a dormant hibernation.
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Thank you, Tom! Maybe it’s the weird weather, but I’ve been seeing many of them around.
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