Red Squirrel1 minute reading
in the branches of the copper
beech – bare still, spring’s shimmer
not yet budded – and now you leap, skitter
the wall and down
the wooden gatepost, then bound,
ears pert, tail long, across the March-damp ground
up the viburnum
on which the peanut feeder
hangs: robins, coal tits and finches scatter.
upon a branch,
front paws to mouth, round-haunched,
tail fluffed and crimped across your back, you munch
I, confined, watch through the glass
of the window. Your obsidian eyes meet my gaze.
‘Red Squirrel’ was published in Allegro Poetry Issue 18, September 2018:
Originally from Zimbabwe, Marian Christie now lives in Southeast England. When not reading or writing poetry, she looks at the stars, puzzles over the laws of physics, listens to birdsong and crochets gifts for her grandchildren.