Early November

Playing the odds of one more warm dayThe last katydid is hanging toughWhile a mantis prepares for hara-kiriNervous chipmunks pool intelligenceThey’re drawing up secret maps And hiding things in burrows I hear each year they forgetWhere they’ve stashed themAnd so must struggle like the rest of usBlinded by frozen eyelidsStumbling, falling Toward utter hibernationSquirrels are in my face Staring right through mePeering for nuts I may have hiddenbehind my earsI guess I’m no threat nowCompared to what’s comingThe ones who can’t take the pressurethrow themselves in front of cats*Words by TFD

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