not a red squirrel
chipping angrily
at all comers . . .
but a gray squirrel
hunched to feed
from the chipped rung
of the cedar feeder,
around whom gather
the chickadees,
goldfinches,
nuthatches,
sparrows,
titmice . . .
sharing . . .
How could I
bang on the glass
to scatter this
peaceable kingdom?
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