Raccoon Poem

A raccoon curled up in my tool shed to die

And looks at me with a glacial eye,

Heavy, slab of frozen fur

I sling it to the woods beyond a spur,

Of granite at the edge of my yard.

Next I decide to clean up a pile of sawdust

With which I might enhance the compost,

In the middle of the pile as I shovel

I discover a dead squirrel, stiff in his last hovel,

I carry the lighter icy fur back to the granite

And toss it to the sky above the planet,

Into the woods to feed the trees

That make the leaves,

And nuts from water earth and light

In vales far beyond my sight.

And now on granite I incise this card.

Comments 7 comments

hecate-horus profile image

hecate-horus 5 years ago from Rowland Woods

Very visual...I like it. Vote up!

barranca profile image

barranca 5 years ago Author

Hi Hecate, Thanks for stopping by, reading and your vote of approval.

ytsenoh profile image

ytsenoh 5 years ago from Louisiana, Idaho, Kauai, Nebraska, South Dakota, Missouri

Nicely written, especially liked how the reading momentum picked up as the end came closer. Thank you.

justateacher profile image

justateacher 5 years ago from Somewhere Over The Rainbow - Near Oz...

Awesome! and voted that way!

barranca profile image

barranca 5 years ago Author

Thanks, ytsenoh and justateacher (colleague). My work seems to circle around my house these days.

Hello, hello, profile image

Hello, hello, 5 years ago from London, UK

Thank you for such a superb poem.

barranca profile image

barranca 5 years ago Author

Hi Hello, Many thanks. Glad you enjoyed it.

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