A tree... acorns, nuts and slugs
A sunny day and a juicy bug.
Dew on blades of grass, shines.
Sit snacks in skin that is hard to tear
Some such skins lying just everywhere.
How I love these Iron deer
With strange round rubber hooves
Mumma said to stay away
But they leave the best snacks everyday.
Food is where the fun is
I'll head over for a peck.
Squirrel's head is lying dead.
Looks smeared with all his blood.
Is it his blood or the Hawks's?
Whose feathers look strewn about?
He came to snack on Squirrel's keister
Like he did at my sister.
Or is it Deer's, whose tail I see
At the end of red rope
Piled outside his belly.
It has to be old Skunk's,
I still smell his fury.
I won't get too close
Though I'd still like to know
Why only Black Ground has strips of snow.
I see no Iron deer left or right
I want to see these strips of snow.
This is not what snow is like
This is flat and not powdery white.
Why did Deer, Squirrel or Skunk cross Black Ground?
I don't know!
Chicken never crossed Black ground!
They stay away and stay sound,
Like us smart Raccoons.