Little Furry Beast

A sonnet

Photo by William J Spirdione

A chipmunk chips and chucks and screeches by.
He scampers down the garden path so fast.
He needs to gather seeds and keep them dry.
He climbs the maze of rocks with food amassed.

Jumps on the branch that leads up to the fence.
The hawk sweeps low but misses its small prey.
The chipmunk chips with glee he’s not past tense.
He grabs the birdseed sitting in the tray.

On to the ground, he jumps. It’s so much labor.
The hawk sweeps, down again, for chip’s death knell,
It’s only feet to his nesting chamber.
Homes entrance close. He knows it from the smell.

Then I walk by, and he, I will defend.
I scare the hawk and the chipmunk descends.