SUNDAY RERUN: THE SQUIRREL

Time again for Sunday Favorites, hosted by Chari, over at Happy To Design! To join in the party, click on the link in my left sidebar, which will take you to the easy-peasy instructions, or just click the link in the first sentence, which will take you to the latest installment. I've chosen another poem, this time from a blog post back in 2002:

My family & me, when I was 10 or 12.
Yes. That's a skunk, our darling Taboo.

THE SQUIRREL
The winter I was twelve
A squirrel,
I think it was a squirrel,
Got into the engine compartment
Of my grandfather's car.
It must have felt like Heaven,
An oily, black, warm
Nirvana.
Bliss was short-lived.
My grandfather, all unawares,
My gentle grandpa,
Drove the car
Into town
And back.

It was the smell that informed us, finally,
Of tragedy.
The smell.
Four decades later I wonder:
Where was that tiny corpse
That grandpa could not extricate it?
We suffered for weeks,
Tearing full-tilt through snowscapes,
Windows down
Coats buttoned
Eyes streaming.

I do not care for dogs.
That winter I would happily have been one,
Head out the window,
Face forward,
Tongue flagging
Icy crisp
Clean
Fresh
Air.