Today the tiny chipmunk at the concrete pile
has a friend and they are alert to me
the approaching upright animal;
they dash away to the far end of the ties
then race back. One comes to the tie end
nearest me, pauses, little abdomen heaving
with the flutter of lungs
or heart (I can’t tell)
twitch-tails and bright-eyes me
then dives out of sight and surfaces fifteen
feet down the jumble of concrete castoffs.
I ease along the grassy path beside the heap
six feet beyond I turn to watch
again one chipmunk scurries boldly near
running behind my heel; I tilt my head
searching and it darts away. Tomorrow
I will bring three or four sunflower seeds,
not to disrupt their economy, just enough
to show myself a friend.
Chipmunk stops to eye me
little abdomen heaving
with the flutter of lungs
or heart (I can’t tell.)
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