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Local Focus – Global Reach

Posted by MFish

A young frog sat on his pad,
Not an Apple but a lily, he had.
While on the pad, he did perch
Quietly, like he was in church.
In church, for a frog, I'd soon see
Was done for protection, not reverie.
For frogs of his size, could soon
Be eaten by a bird. No not a Loon.
The dangers for him, would go on.
His fear was the mighty Blue Heron.
A long shadow, cut through his light;
He jumped into the water, out of sight,
Holding his breath, he managed to stay
And escaped the Heron, at least for today.

I am a simple man
with a complexed mind.
I write these words
to enable me
to cope with life's
reality and to deal
with this emotion,
deep inside, that
is worried by the
slow decline of
someone close to me,
who no longer
can use reason
or logic, to think.
I love this elderly
child, I see
is now a dependent
on our family and me.

Here I am, a Native Son,
Resisting the invasion that has begun.
I am small and shades of brown.
Now there are some Greys in town.
I run along the fence, so quickly,
Much faster than in a tree.
My name is Walter Earle,
I am a Native Washington Squirrel,
Not a Chipmunk, I must say
But a Native Squirrel, every day.
The invasion came, years ago.
Not sure how, but they did show.
Grey Squirrels, coming from the East,
Eating our food; it was a feast.
I fight very hard for specie survival
Against the Grey, my arch rival.
Who will win, that's hard to say,
But I know that I'm here to stay.

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