Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

My grand father used to keep peanuts--
to feed squirrels-- by the back kitchen door;
they’d salve from his hand like the swine from their slop--
no life ever trusted him more.

Long patient, now I eat the peanuts--
and top grade-- and I hog their light pearls,
but after I’m dead they’ll be given away
as before to the trust of the squirrels.

I've been noticing the squirrels lately...on my short walk to the bus for work. They scurry around with such purpose...they try to stare me off from the bottom of their trees, until that moment when they run up the trunk...chattering, cursing at me. I close my eyes and try to send them messages of friendliness, sometimes I tell them outright..."hey don't worry, i'm just walking by enroute to my peanuts too..."
Another relatable read..thanks again Joel!
H