A squirrel decides to eat meat instead of acorns.
This poem is in response to a a request made by the social chair of the UVa chapter of the ACM. Her words, as best I recall them, were “Could you write a poem about a squirrel that decides to eat meat instead of acorns?”
But of course! I aim to please.
“We’re a small and sorry bunch,” my brother said one day.
“From cats and dogs and owls and such we always run away.
But they don’t run; and why is that?” “Because they’re big?” I guessed.
“I think it’s what they eat” he said. “Let’s put it to the test
You stick with nuts, but I’ll eat meat; a month from now we’ll see
Which one of us is standing brave and which one still must flee.”
I don’t know where my brother got the flesh he had to eat;
My acorns grew on trees, but where’s a squirrel to get meat?
Still, he’s a clever chap and somehow meat he had to spare
I don’t know how he ate it though, it makes such chewy fare!
But did it make him braver? That I really cannot tell;
Just two weeks in he had a slip and to his death he fell.
Our mother said “that goes to show, a squirrel’s not a cat!”
We’re not, of course, but is it true his fall was caused by that?
Perhaps it was the meat that made him clumsy as a kid,
But maybe it was just a fluke that he fell when he did.
If I could find where he got meat, I might give it a try;
How can I weigh a life of fear against the chance I’d die?