The Warning

The creatures stand watching

As I slowly walk by.

I try not to look

While I’m wondering why.


The rabbits this morning

Sat on my walk.

No fear or warning

Nothing said,

They never talk.


The buck by the road

Stood there chewing on leaves.

I whistled,

He looked,

And objectified me.


Woodpeckers hammered more holes in my trunk.

I’d shoe them away,

But digress with blue funk.


The doves fly by close

With a beady black eye.

In the distance they coo;

I wonder why they cry.


Ground squirrels they steal

From the feeders I fill.

They run over my shoes

Like unaware or facile.


I sit now and watch the house finch and wait;

No notes from his redhead to appreciate.


I can’t help but wonder

What they see or might know

Bout this odd conspiracy,

With trepidation,

Perhaps woe.

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