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For A Squirrel 
By Miriam R., Brookline, MA
it's spring now
the leaves are growing
stretching their soft greenness
into the warm air
the tulips and the daffodils
have already sprouted and bloomed
soon it will be summer
but you, squirrel
will never see another spring
you will never find
those acorns you so carefully buried
last fall
the sun will never again
turn your thick gray fur
to gold
were you young, squirrel?
did you realize that
a slip of the foot
could end your summers
and your winters at the birdfeeder?
let the breeze sing you your last lullaby
let the sun warm your back for the last time
let the grass surround you with velvet kisses
and let you draw your last breath of spring air
i will not forget










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